


Eclipse of Time and Magic

by Demisses



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drama, F/M, Greek Mythology - Freeform, Romance, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-15
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2018-02-17 13:42:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 62
Words: 278,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2311646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Demisses/pseuds/Demisses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Defeating Voldemort destroyed as many lives as were saved. Lovers and family were torn apart eternally. Until a girl is born at the will of a Goddess to travel through time over and over until she can stand with her one true goal. True love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prophecies are Made of Winter

**Author's Note:**

> AN/ Going to give everyone a more in-depth look at what my first ever fan-fiction is bringing to the table. First off I already have A LOT of this written and know where it’s going. This first section will focus mainly on my OC (yea I know how most feel about them but I love her anyways) and how she grows to become the woman she will be in the second part of this story. This will end up with two main story lines, my OC and who she’s meant to be with in the end, and Dramione though the later won’t happen until later on. I love time travel (Whovian to my bones), strong females, secrets, and romance, things I hope I have incorporated to everyone’s satisfaction. Nothing M rated for a while but there will be for sure. Any mistakes or inconsistencies or if you have a specific prompt just let me know.So after all that if you’re still interested read on! Oh and anything you recognize is not of my own creation.

_The dust was settling, and weeping filled the silence._   
_‘Is this normal?’ Hermione thought as she stood in the middle of it all. ‘Is this the feeling I’m supposed to feel? I feel…. Empty and lost. ’ She watched a family grieving over their beloved son and brother, his amazing future taken away by a wall of stone, her aching cuts and bruises were so insignificant in that moment. The sight of a trio of blond headed figures, a weakened father, a frightened mother, and their battered and bloody son quickly leaving the castle, the meeting of pale blue eyes as the son looked over his shoulder, full of guilt and anguish. ‘Shouldn’t I be cheering and celebrating? Following him?’ Once they disappeared from sight, from the settling dust a white fox sat, watching the crippling scene before it. A mournful whimper the only sound it made. ‘I wish it had never come to this.’_

The flash of camera lights and the hollow sound of applause brought Hermione blinking back to the present. The day melted from the dark terror filled night of the past to the current morning sky full of clouds threatening to rain, a whipping wind pulling at her favorite Molly Weasley knitted scarf. She was standing on a makeshift stage along with Harry, Ron and Minister Shacklebolt, set up on the fields behind Hogwarts for the one year anniversary of the defeat of Voldemort. The stage was small and a simple white decorated with simple red roses. The grief on the familiar faces of witches and wizards seated and standing before them, she knew and felt only too well, watched as Kingsly finished his speech.

Tears came to her as she thought about the faces that should have been there. Family she didn’t even know she had until last words were spoken, filled with pain and love. Instead of cries and pain this event should have been joyful and merry. And someday it would be she hoped. Someday this will be an awful distant memory and we will finally begin to celebrate.

The moment ended and Hermione followed the Minister, Harry, and Ron off the stage to stand with them, watching as the crowd began to stir and move about. Not only were the dead missing from the crowd Hermione had noticed the moment she had taken her place on the stage. There were certain families missing as well. Though deeply saddened by this she knew it was for the best. Safer for everyone. Years of deep inset prejudice were difficult to overcome whether you fought for supremacy or against it. Ill feelings against the defeated were bound to last generations.

“Well glad that’s over…now what?” Ron said, his hunched shoulders and shoved his hands in his slack pockets, rocking back on his feet restlessly. Harry bowed his head, Hermione but her lip. Each felt a bit lost and unguided. Winning a war had its price. The past year they had spent helping rebuild homes and the castle. There hadn’t been much time for them to recover from their year on the run, meaning the three young heroes still looked and felt underfed and tired, despite the endless cooking of one Molly Weasley. Through it all they stuck together.

Shacklebolt cleared his throat, passed a nod to Neville Longbottom whom was making his way to headmistress of Hogwarts Minerva McGonagall, to talk about last minuet apprenticeship details Hermione suspected. It was no secret Neville’s ambition to be the next Professor of Herbology and she applauded his success.

“Harry, Ron I’d much like to extend the offer for you two to begin Auror training.” Kingsley broached the subject suddenly. Both the young wizards looked up in surprise and eagerness.

“Of... of course sir! When do we begin?” Harry asked and Ron nodded in quick agreement, Harry’s eyes had the first bit of excited light in them than Hermione could remember seeing in the last couple of years and Ron’s wide grin was a welcome sight as well. She loved both boys as brothers, and even though despite many bets among those of the Gryffindor House, she and Ron’s feelings never developed past the current level.

Wanting nothing more than for her best friends to find what happiness they can she gave each wizard a hug. Harry and Ron shook Shacklebolt’s hand and agreed on the following week for training, with wide smiles they strode off to share the news with Ron’s family. Hermione watched them leave with a soft smile, happy their lives had new meaning. Something to hopefully keep them out of trouble.

“And now for you dearest Hermione…” She looked up when Kingsly continued.

“Yes Sir?”

“I have a very important task for you.”

Hermione’s thoughts flashed the past eight years of her life. Already giving so much what was another task? Anything to keep her mind busy she took a firm breath and said “anything.”

He nodded and with a somber expression suggested they say their goodbyes. Explaining that what he had for her was of immediate importance. Hermione slowly made her way to the Weasley family, unable to keep herself from examining the faces of the magical community. Whether they had an active part, or simply hid in order to survive, they each held the weight on their shoulders.

After hugging each of her remaining surrogate family members she whispered she would see them later but she had to leave. When she stood in front of a haggard looking George she could no longer hold her emotions back. George, the sole remaining member of the infamous Weasley Twins, sat slumped in his chair. The past year had been unbearably difficult, evident in his pale pallor, dull blue eyes, and clenched jaw.

A tear slipped down her cheek as she tipped his chin up so he would meet her gaze. His brown eyes meeting her she leaned up and whispered “His mischief has not left this world yet. And she is giving him a run for his galleons in the clouds.” She gave him a tight hug which he returned surprisingly before she left for the gates of Hogwarts.

The feeling that something was just around the corner began beating through her, giving her a quicker pace. ‘This must be vastly important to pull Kingsly from the one year celebration of Voldemort’s downfall.’ She thought to herself, her pace hurried to catch up with the Minister whom had left quite a few moments before her.

The moment she stepped through the gates she immediately disapperated to a small pub near a phone booth leading to the ministry. The pub was dark and for the most part empty, no one bothering the witch who walked with a purpose.

Meeting the minister at the lift inside the ministry building, Shacklebolt motioned for Hermione to enter and followed after. She held onto the rail to keep herself steady, calming her quickened breathing as it began to maneuver through a maze of corridors. Much like the pub the ministry was nearly empty of personnel. In a matter of moments the lift stopped and Hermione immediately recognized where they were.

“The Department of Mysteries” she said in a whisper.

“You are correct. There is something you must see…and hear.” Shacklebolt said as he led Hermione down the many hallways until they came to the solid black door.

“Now Hermione I’m sure you remember the mess you and the others left behind in your fifth year.”  
Hermione bit her lip and gave a shy nod. She kept telling herself she was nineteen now and that was all in the past.  
“Well” Kingsly said as he opened the door. “It took quite some time to…clean it.” He said with a kind smile and she felt a cheeky grin creep onto her face. Looking around the almost black room where once there were towering shelves filled with thousands maybe more of prophecies, there was only darkness. Hermione followed Kingsly into the dark, the only light came from their wands which each held in front as they walked, and eventually the two came upon shelves of prophecies that had survived the battle that took place that day.

“Now while cleaning up this place we came across something which was lost once and very very important. A Prophecy…far older than we have record of. I’d like for you to hear it.”  
Hermione was shocked and her eyes showed it.

“Sir how do you know I will even be able to hear it?”

“Very good question. Records show only wizards or witches that hold the top level of authority in example the minister of magic can listen and….” He waited for Hermione’s quick and brilliant mind to fill in the blank.

“Someone involved in it.” Hermione whispered. “Sir?”

“This way Hermione. We have an important mission before us.” At the end of the massive room was a solitary table with a small locked chest. Kingsley lifted his wand once again from his robes. “Now I want you to remember every detail Hermione and keep them to yourself. It’s important. “

Hermione gave a firm nod and with a wave of his wand the dusty chest lid unlocked and lifted to reveal a small crystal ball around the size that had been Harry’s prophecy. It glowed a bright swirling white as Hermione slowly approached the table. She looked closer and could see the crystal ball seemed to be filled with swirling snowflakes that had a bit of glow to them. They began to move faster and Hermione heard a soft voice fill her head. Hermione felt both peace and chaos, something she hadn’t felt since a brief moment at Malfoy Manor.

_“Brought forth on Winter’s Breath, She will cross the impossible distance. Shown the way by the brightest of minds She will give back which was cruelly lost. Fighting for the world only when love is Her goal, once, twice, forever, time will weave its mistake until She returns.”_

Hermione’s breathing quickened and her mind began to work as the words faded. Processing each words meaning, etching them in her memory.

“You must find this girl Hermione. She could right so many wrongs.”

A pair of light blue eyes filled with longing and guilt flashed through her mind. “I’ll search the ends of the Earth sir.”

_Six months later_.

“It’s important for you to come Hermione. The Weasleys’ still love you like family.” Harry said as he and Hermione walked for her office at the ministry. Harry was still in Auror training with Ron while the Minister had given Hermione her own office and with it included the highest clearance and every possible resource she could need in order to do her work. No one knew what she was doing as she was under the guise of training for the Unspeakables.

Harrys urgent pestering her into visiting the Weasleys was a weekly occurrence. She really did mean to visit more often it’s just her work was a major time consumer. Following any possible lead on her mystery girl resulted in too many plans fallen through the cracks and forgotten, equally resulting in lectures from both Harry and Ron.

“I know Harry and I’ll be there! I just need to finish some things.”

“I understand why you are reluctant to come… the family just isn’t the same anymore. But Mrs. Weasley sure knows how to lay it on thick. And it might do you some good though.” Hermione nodded silently and gave him a hug.

“Mrs. Weasleys not the only one who can lay it on thick. I’ll be there tonight.” Hermione said with a roll of her eyes, and left a pleased Harry waving goodbye.  
Once Harry left Hermione to her office she sat at her sensible desk and carefully pulled out the glowing Crystal ball. She set it on her desk and stared at it waiting for some clue as to where to keep looking for this so called savior. She hadn’t much to go on and the hunk of ridiculous crystal had been quiet for six months now. All she knew was she was looking for a female. No age, name, whereabouts’ or anything.  
Hermione sighed in frustration and frowned. “You’ve got to give me something you oversized paperweight….”

\--The sun was long gone as Harry stepped out into the frigid winter night air. The rising moon causing the thick December snow to glow. He looked up at the sky and saw a clear view of the brightest stars.

“Where are you Hermione…” he whispered into the night. The entire family had been looking forward to her having dinner with them and the disappointment was almost painful to watch, so he had left for some fresh hair, at a lost as to how to help his best friend and his second family in their pain. Not only did they lose Fred and Angelina, Percy and George were consumed with survivors’ guilt, Ron lost Lavender, Charlie left immediately after the funeral for Romania and hadn’t been back. And then there’s Ginny. He loved her so much but he just couldn’t find the words to bring their lives back together.

With his Auror training well underway, Ginny declined going back to finish school and instead joined the Holyhead Harpies Quidditch team. Tonight was the first time he had seen her properly in months and neither knew how to broach the subject of their feelings.

Harry kicked a clump of snow in frustration as he turned to go back inside to finish his game of wizards’ chess with Ron when he heard a soul ripping cry echo across the dark distance.

\--Hermione was just putting her papers away, preparing to finally leave and go to the Burrow for a short time. Tomorrow was a Saturday but Hermione usually made plans to come into her office for work anyway meaning she couldn’t spend a great portion of time at the Burrow. The hour was falling late as it were.

Hermione was bent down to file a paper, muttering file names to herself when a soft whispering voice once again after six long quiet months, filled her mind.

_“She comes.”_

Hermione sat frozen for a moment trying to place how this new bit of information would help. ‘Coming from where? To where? Thank you for the rubbish information.’ She thought critically while sitting up. She quickly wrote down in her notes the new information, including the time. She did a double-take at her wall clock, noticed the time and gave a very un-Hermione like curse.

“Harry is going to kill me!” Hermione yelped and she quickly fled her office to dissapperate from the ministry, her long coat summoned from down the hallway, went flying after her.

When she appeared at the burrow she saw Harry was already outside and standing near her.

“Look Harry...” she cut off as he lifted a hand to ask for silence. She took in his rigid stance and immediately went into defense mode herself, pulling her wand from her coat pocket. After a moment she heard what had Harry so tense. A cry of deep pain and desperation. Before it could fade away Harry and Hermione both leapt through the snow into a sprint towards the fields behind the Burrow.

Their run occasionally paused to listen for the cries of pain until after what seemed like miles of difficult running in the snow yet was actually only a short distance, the two finally saw a moonlit figure struggling in the snow. Hermione could hear her cries and as they moved closer she could tell the figure was a woman. She was dressed in a long white nightgown made of thin material. Her matted hair was nearly the color of snow and down to her waist. Her beautiful face pale and twisted in agony.

“Could pass for a Malfoy” Hermione whispered and Harry nodded in wide eyed agreement. As they made their quick approach the two noticed that she was for one very very young, maybe even younger than herself and Harry. And two that she was very far along with child.

“Miss are you alright?” Harry gasped out trying to catch his breath. Harry gripped her arms and she fell to her knees in the snow with a weak cry. Seconds later a scream of pain ripped from her throat and she clutched her stomach.

“Harry…” Hermione whispered. When he looked at her she pointed to the pool of blood quickly pooling on the white snow and the path leading from it. Hermione and Harry stared at each other for a panicked moment before leaping into action. Harry threw his thick winter coat on the ground and transfigured it into a thick blanket and they eased the whimpering young woman onto the blanket.  
“Harry you need to stay by her head. Keep a grip on her shoulders and keep her calm. Talk to her get her name anything about her life or what happened.” Hermione said in her take charge voice and knelt at the woman’s side. “Miss…I’m going to help you and the baby but first I need to check on the baby.” Hermione barely got a nod and Hermione repositioned by her feet and lifted the blood soaked nightgown to the woman’s waist. “Ok…it looks as if the baby’s head is at the opening. On your next contraction-“. Before Hermione could finish her sentence the woman let out another scream and Hermione yelled “Push!” growling in frustration when there was no progress after several long moments.

“Hermione she’s getting too weak, and I can’t get her to say anything.” Harry said his voice frantic.

“Stay with me sweetie. We need to push again can you do that?” there was no answer as the woman kept her gaze on the stars. Hermione could see she was fading fast…almost as fast as she was losing blood and soon would lose the baby as well. “Harry…hold her tight…”

Harry swallowed and held onto the woman. Her head lolled limply in his lap and he spoke to her in a gentle voice. Harry may have faced the darkest of wizards and survived dragons and Snape’s potions class yet he was terrified out of his mind for the mother and child.

The next contraction came a moment later and the woman was now too weak to even cry out. Hermione thought fast. She knew the baby needed out now or she would be lost forever.

“I’m so sorry but this is the only way…” and then Hermione acted on instinct. She used her hands to gently feel around the infants head then used both her hands to reach further to grip the tiny shoulders and slowly pull the baby from the mother. Once free she quickly used her wand to sever and tie off the umbilical cord and wrapped the small baby in her coat.

The tiny being in her coat was a little girl and Hermione turned her to her side to give the baby a good swat on her rump in order get her to take her first breath. The little baby began to cry with a set of healthy lungs. When Hermione heard the sound she felt her warm tears fall down her cold cheeks.

In the next moment where once was cold still night air turned into a flurry of whipping wind and swirling snow. The odd thing was it was only happening around Hermione and the infant she held. Hermione felt entranced as she gazed at the baby. She was small and red, no hair and impossible to tell what color her eyes would be at this age. She stopped her great wails as a voice only the two of them could hear lifted over the wind.

_“Love is her goal and her fight for it you will never know. This is the woven will of the Seven Sisters.”_

Hermione shuddered as the voice faded away and she held the tiny girl close to her. The suspicion that she now held the most important person in their existence, resonating through her bones.

“Look miss you have a beautiful little girl….” Hermione turned to the unknown woman when she didn’t get a reply and saw the woman’s eyes were closed and her skin had lost all color. “Miss?” she turned frightened eyes to Harry. He just sadly shook his head.

“I couldn’t say anything but I think we lost her before we even found her.” Harry said quietly and Hermione nodded sadly.

“Let’s get back to the burrow…I should have sent out a patronus Harry… or thought to bring my purse but I was in such a panic because I was running late and-” Hermione’s frantic rush was interrupted by her best friend.

“Hermione you could not have saved her. There was no possible way to get her to St. Mungos in her condition. It’s lucky we were able to save her baby. Boy or girl?”

Hermione gave a defeated nod and stood prepared to leave the grisly scene. She was emotionally exhausted, cold, and filled with the need to know if she had at last found the girl she had been searching for.

“A girl. Possibly a very important girl.” Hermione answered. At Harrys confused look she continued “I’ll explain everything. We need to get to the Burrow and summon the Minister.”

Harry nodded his understanding and turned to the woman laid out on what was once his favorite winter coat. He didn’t feel right levitating the woman so he opted to carry her. She seemed so peaceful now that her features were no longer tightened in unbearable cold and pain. “How did you know what do to?” he asked as they walked as quickly as possible the way they had come.

“I read Harry…a lot.” Came her exasperated reply to which Harry nodded and rolled his eyes behind it glasses. He should have known.

They finally made it back to the burrow with the moon now high into the night. Harry had never been so relieved to see his first true home since his body was numb with cold and the woman he was carrying was becoming more and more difficult to carry.

Hermione with her small burden stumbled through the front door on shaking legs, her work slacks covered in snow, and her favorite pair of loafers soaked and filled with cold snowmelt.

“My word Hermione, Harry where have…” Molly lost her voice as she saw Harry carry in a terribly still, young woman dressed in blood stained white. Hermione stood silently to the side of the living room next to the glow of a crackling fire warming herself and the new baby.

“Bloody hell Harry!” Ron exclaimed. He leapt over an overstuffed chair to help Harry lay the woman on the couch.

“Is she..?” Ginny asked hesitantly. Harry sighed and nodded, Ginny’s unfinished question clear to all.

“There’s more.” Hermione said. The living rooms current occupants turned their attention to where she stood. She turned and lifted the baby from the jacket. Now in the light of the house Hermione was able to get a clear look at the child she had helped bring into the world. The little infant was small and pinched, hair so light she appeared to not have any at all, and her pale skin quickly gaining a red color that came with warmth. Her eyes closed from the exhaustion of being born and her tiny impossibly small hands were curled and resting by her ears.  
As Hermione studied her features she ran a finger down the infant girl’s nose, thinking about her possible future.

“Oh the poor dears!” Molly let out as she bustled over to the pair. “Come let’s go get-“

“Her” Hermione inserted.

“-her cleaned up and fed.” And Hermione was immediately thanking Merlin that she knew one of the best mothers in the world.

Once they had the baby cleaned, dressed in clothes that Ginny once wore and wrapped in a warm blanket of Molly’s own stitching, Hermione sat in Ginny’s room feeding her with one of Victories old bottles. Ginny sat beside her in sad curiosity.

“What happens now?” Ginny asked.

“Not sure. I suppose we try and find her family and hand her over to them.”

“She’s beautiful” Ginny said with a sigh. “I mean I know she’s all red and wrinkled looking…yet she’s amazing all the same.”

“I quite agree” Hermione said, holding the baby to her. Ginny squeezed Hermione’s arm and left the room, leaving the two to get some much needed rest, and for Hermione to contemplate that she might have finally found the one to save them all….the prophecy speaking for the first time in months….it was all too much of a coincidence, but for now all she wanted to do was protect the little baby from such a horrible task.

Ginny joined the others in the kitchen as they discussed their next course of action.

“Best step we can make right now is to follow the trail she made. See if we can get some answers that way. Find her kin….hopefully the father.” Ron was saying.

Ginny spoke up “Hermione is going to have a rough time letting her go. She seems pretty attached already.” Her mother agreed sadly and after a few more moments of discussing the nights events Molly and Arthur left to seek their bed, leaving, Ron, Harry, Ginny, and George in the kitchen. George had been silent through the entire conversation and Harry sat with a frown as he thought back to what had happened out there.

“What’s going on Harry?” Ginny asked. She recognized the expression on his face well.

Harry ruffled his hair “Something happened out there. Something I don’t understand yet. When Hermione… when Hermione held that little baby….just this unexplainable feeling filled me. The wind picked up and they seemed to…I don’t know glow I guess. The panic and sadness I had been feeling had left for a moment. And this…feeling that something big…very big just happened. Something so important and every worry I had disappeared…just for a moment.”

Ron frowned, Harrys description didn’t being any explanation to mind. “At first light maybe we will get some answers.”


	2. A Farm is Just a Castle

Just a few short hours after he had arrived back at the Burrow, Harry along with Ron, trekked out into the dim early morning. They left Hermione asleep with the baby in Ginny’s room and leaving Arthur to handle moving the still and peaceful young woman to the proper location at St. Mungos. The distance to where the unknown woman gave life and lost it, was not so far from the Burrow as the darkness had made it seem much to Harry’s dismay. Ron gave a shudder when he saw the frozen blood standing out against the white snow.

“Bloody hell Harry…” Ron whispered.

“Her tracks were coming from this direction.” Harry said after a thick swallow and led Ron down the hill following the tracks. Harry was astonished at how far the woman had walked in her condition. At least four kilometers the two walked. The bloody tracks suddenly ended at the edge of a dense woods far from any visible roads or buildings.

Harry and Ron searched from some clue as to where she had come from but there was nothing. Just the forest ending and her bloody foot prints beginning. The only other curious part about the already bizarre situation was a lone white fox sitting at the edge of the woods with a curious tilt of the head, watching Harry and Ron search for a clue. When the two finally found no answers only more questions, they apparated back to the burrow to tell Hermione and the others what they had found.

Everyone except for Hermione was shocked and intrigued by the woman’s mysterious arrival. Arthur had discovered from St. Mungos that no women fitting her description had ever been a patient there. The Auror department had searched British police databases for any women reported missing, yet again none fit the description, leaving the family with dead ends everywhere they turned.  
This woman’s mysterious identity left Hermione even more certain than ever about her suspicions and sent off a request for a meeting with Kingsley immediately, asking him to meet her at the Burrow. Who better to fix the miserable state their world of magic was left in than a baby girl left an orphan by fate? She just knew that this mysterious woman and baby were apart of everything she had been working for the past six months.

Kingsly arrived shortly after receiving her message. Once confused greetings were shared with the Weasley family, Hermione asked if he would follow her up to Ginny’s room, and asked for Ron and Harry to join them as well, leaving the others discussing the possibilities for such needed secrecy. Once everyone was in the room Hermione picked up the sleeping baby and showed her to Kingsly.

“She’s the one Minister.” She said softly “and I feel we need to bring Ron and Harry in on this. She’s the one. I had the prophecy in my bag since I always carry it with me and I mean, I forgot my purse and nearly my coat but I always remember my bag…” Hermione’s voice had picked up speed as she rushed to explain the situation. “And it spoke to me….” At her pause she took a deep breath and continued. “It spoke… as I held her once she was born. We found her.” Ron and Harry looked on in confusion and Kingsly was appraisingly thoughtful as his dark eyes took in his own hope.

“Now that we found her we need to protect her. Until we can find out just what it is she will do.” He replied after a long moment spent studying the increasingly fussy baby.

Harry finally spoke up “Can you please tell what in Merlin’s hat you are talking about.” At Kinglsey’s accepting nod Hermione quickly explained everything involving the prophecy, the search for the past six months, and why she believes the little infant is the fulfiller of this epic prophecy. Once the two were caught up on the situation Kingsly brought back the problem on what was to happen to her.

“She needs to be kept safe and secret.” He said.

“Who will she live with?” Harry asked.

“Her location must be an absolute secret.” The minister paused in thought. “There is an old witch whom keeps to herself in the country. No family to speak of anymore. I don’t believe anyone has even bothered her in years. Or knows she’s still out there. I can ask for her help.” Kingsly said.

“Brilliant” Ron said.

“Only the three of you will be permitted to know. And I think it would be a good idea if you visit her often. Only if you are absolutely certain no one is following. We all know better than most how fast a secret can be betrayed.” Everyone nodded in agreement and then Kingsly turned to begin preparations.

Hermione spoke “what shall we name her?” halting Kingsley’s departure.

“I think it should be your decision Hermione.” Ron said, Harry and Kingsley nodding in agreement.

Hermione thought for a moment. “Brea” she said. “So she may never lose her one true goal. And Fox for her last name. Seems to be connected in some odd way. Alara for the middle since she looks like she is someday going to be a little water fairy” From the warmth of Hermione’s arms the newly named Brea Alara Fox began to let out an angry cry, her instinct to satisfy her hunger coming forth.  
Harry nodded in amused agreement as Ron shuddered in dread. “Sounds as if it fits her well.”

\--The next day little Brea was moved to her new home in the country and met old Miss Martha Sterling for the first time. Martha was delighted to take on such a precious ward. She had been around since Dumbledore was just finishing his days at Hogwarts and had been alone for the last couple of decades. She was more than ready to welcome Brea into her home and fell in love with the newborn immediately.  
Hermione learned that Martha had never had any children of her own but she had a small well run farm which she maintained alone. There was the main house, a simple cottage of tan stone and white trims.

To the right side of the house, a vegetable garden, and to the left an impressive flower and herb garden. A thick gathering trees bordered the land, making a natural fence around a small red barn, pens for a small flock of hens and pigs. A good sized pond completed the picturesque farm. Inside Martha’s cottage, Hermione was pleased to find a room especially for books and a handsome piano which looked to have been passed down from generation to generation.

When the time came for Hermione to leave she was saddened at the thought of being apart from Brea and wanted nothing more than to stay on this farm with her and Martha. But she knew that if she disappeared it would be noticed by too many and that would put Brea in danger. So Hermione ran her hand over the baby’s soft white almost invisible hair before stepping away from Martha who was holding Brea gently. When the dust settled after the war she knew she wouldn’t have her own children and felt this was the closest she would ever get. She watched Martha who was short and plump, with iron gray hair and kind blue eyes, coo over Brea she knew it was time to leave. She promised to return the next day with supplies for Brea. A mental list running through her mind on everything she would need for the baby’s education.

Martha and Hermione both agreed to keep the prophecy and the war from Brea until she would be old enough to understand. They weren’t even sure if she was a witch yet as it was too soon to tell. Harry didn’t agree with keeping such history from Brea but gave in to the desperate look Hermione had at wanting to protect her. Ron was on the side of Hermione. He didn’t want the world to twist the innocent baby the way it had to so many before. To them sheltering her as long as possible was the answer.

The next morning had Hermione arriving with a wonderful white crib for the baby to sleep in. Pretty dresses and soft animals to shower on Brea. The brilliant witch used an arsenal of magic to decorate Brea’s little room which Martha had once used for sewing. By the end of the day Brea’s new bedroom walls were filled with the scenery of a winter meadow. The walls seemed to glitter with sunshine and the trees with bare limbs of winter, swaying gently in the background. Occasionally a rabbit would scurry from wall to wall. When the sun set a glowing moon timed with natures moon phase would softly spread light on the dark room. Hermione’s favorite part of the enchantment was that much like the enchantment in Hogwarts Great Hall the scenery would change with the seasons and the weather and, to complete the complex magic, Hermione couldn’t help adding a little white fox playing among the snowy walls.

\--To the four witches and wizards, Brea’s childhood seemed to speed by. One day Martha is changing the sweet girl’s nappies the next she is hiding the cookie jar from sneaky fingers. Always sunny and eternally ready to play, Brea was the light in their lives. Regaling Ron and Harry with frog catching escapades cheered them after a dangerous hunt for remaining Death Eaters. Not that they ever shared their own near death battles with the tiny girl. Brea’s adoration for Hermione and Martha helped to relieve them of their own loneliness.  
Winter days were spent reading fairytales and playing Martha’s ancient piano. Grand imaginary adventures filled her summers. Most hours of the long sunny days were spent in the pond swimming with the ducks, in the barn loft with the new kittens or helping Martha in the gardens. Everyone sought to shower Brea with love in hopes she would never feel hatred. A life kept busy with chores and playing outdoors alone kept the much loved girl from becoming spoiled with attention.

The first magic she showed was somewhere after her fourth birthday and she had turned Sally the pig from a healthy pink to a blue which she called impossibly blue, her favorite color. Martha and Brea had celebrated with homemade ice cream and dancing on the front porch. From then on Martha would often find various animals and objects turn the same shade, including Harrys eyes. Many times Brea would mention how that color makes the prettiest eyes she could imagine.

Hermione taught the young witch proper manners while Ron taught her to never be afraid to seek adventure. Sneaking out to climb trees in the middle of the night just for a better look at the stars or riding bareback on Sally became common occurrences. In Brea’s innocent and sheltered mind the only pain and cruelty one endured was in her books, thought up from the imaginations of great authors. She wasn’t foolish, she knew as she got older that there was a real world out there beyond the farm, but it was a long ways away and she was content with believing it couldn’t harm her. Brea without doubt loved her life and family, to the point she never questioned where Hermione, Ron, and Harry went once they were done with their weekly visits. Never asked what was out there beyond the tree line. She was quite curious about many things such as why flowers liked to be sung to but some instinct told her that maybe she didn’t want to know. Or maybe she wasn’t ready to know. She wasn’t waiting for her life to begin as she was quite content with the way things were at this point.

Brea loved magic. She adored watching Martha use it to knit her matching mittens and cap and knew someday Hermione or Martha would teach her how to use magic and she waited patiently for the day to come.

Hermione spent as much time with the little feisty witch as possible. Many afternoons wiled away with Hermione brushing Brea’s long light colored hair as the girl read to her or the other way around while Hermione would sing to her about a gentle maiden calling upon the seven sisters to grant her with the knowledge of magic. The song was a particular favorite of Brea’s, finding it incredibly fantastic.  
Hermione’s ultimate accomplishment much to the playful protest of Ron was Brea’s studious nature. Clever and attentive, she worked hard and never complained about studying, often looking forward to learning about arithmetic and literature. Hermione even managed to drill basics for the French and Latin languages, into her young mind, yet after a long discussion with Martha, Hermione opted to leave history lessons for when Brea was older and more capable. Harry was furious about the decision, arguing that keeping the little witch ignorant would only bring her harm. Unfortunately Hermione’s legendary stubbornness and Martha’s tears won out, leaving Harry tight lipped and scowling in defeat.

Before anyone could realize it Brea’s eleventh birthday would be there, leaving everyone without a choice anymore. Unbeknownst to her, she soon would receive her Hogwarts letter and for the first time would want to leave her safe haven. Leave it for an unknown life and her safety would no longer be certain.

\--The day of her eleventh birthday Brea could feel it in the air that something was different. On the outside the details were the same as every birthday before that she could remember. Her light blonde hair pulled back into a French braid, her favorite green dress, and all her favorite foods. Since her birthday was on the winter solstice she always had it indoors around the Christmas tree, celebrating with the only four people in her life. Harry, Ron and Hermione had never missed a birthday and this one was no different. She had a simple cake with one more candle than the year before. The yearly birthday wish was made, a fishing pole, and afterwards she told them about her plans for a treehouse in the spring.

For her gifts she received a fishing pole from Ron, much to her delight. Harry gave her a book about learning to fly on a broom.

“Read this well and soon we can see about getting you your own broom.”

Brea caught the glare Martha sent Harry and the nervous glance Hermione sent Ron. Her curiosity was running high now but she knew not to question something they obviously weren’t willing to tell her. After the awkward silence Brea promised to read the book right away and she opened her gift from Hermione. A beautiful hooded cloak of deep dark blue and black satin trimmed the deep hood.

“I charmed it myself to grow with you so my little winter fox may always be warm.” Said Hermione while Brea gave her a warm hug and kiss on her cheek.

The last came a gift from Martha. The old witch knew her time with Brea was dwindling and she was afraid of what the future held so she passed down her most precious possession to her most precious girl. A long thin silver Goblin made chain and on it hung a clear crystal the size of Brea’s pinky finger. Brea gasped when she saw the beautiful necklace.

“This my love was my mothers and her mother’s before her and passed along for as long as anyone can guess. When the time comes it will lead you to the path you are meant to take. It led my mother to the pumpkin carriage races where she met my father and it led me to this farm many years ago. There is none other in the world like it and I know it will show you as well.” Brea blinked back tears and threw her little self into Martha arms. The gift made her happy and the feeling of being well loved filled her.

Brea and her small gathering enjoyed the rest of her birthday eating cake, and playing exploding snap. Laughter and occasionally Ron’s ear ringing singing floated out across the moon lit snow. Even with all the smiles and good cheer Brea cold feel it in the air that something was different with this new year she was welcoming.

\--The hour was in the early morning after her birthday party had ended some time before, when Brea awoke with a gasping jolt. Amber eyes were in a wild panic as they blinked around her room rapidly. Everywhere she looked where jagged cracks. They weren’t on the walls, floors, and celling like one would expect, more like cracks in the open space between. As Brea attempted to calm her breathing she rolled her eyes to the cracks. They seemed to be suspended all around her, each a different size, some had thin streams of light filtering through. As she studied them, afraid to even moved she realized that they were fading away till she was once again left in her dark room. The girls panic gave way to bewilderment and frightening shock.

“Perhaps I’m still dreaming...” she said into the early morning before laying down once again. She considered telling Martha if she remembered as she drifted back into sleep. But as is the case with most dreams the moment was quickly forgotten and gave Brea no more bother.

\--Brea’s winter melted away to spring which quickly gave way to summer and she built her treehouse with Harry, fished with Ron, shared stories with Hermione, and spent many hours in the gardens with Martha. The day Brea’s life began to tilt upside down forever was a typical sunny day in early August. The girl was barefoot and her hair had grown several inches since winter. It was quite wind tangled and streaked with sun bleached strands. One of the barn cats lay on her belly with Brea’s hand absently stroking the orange fur. Brea was imagining the clouds in fantastic shapes and humming a tune she had recently learned to play on Martha’s old piano. She had just decided that the drifting cloud just looked like a white lumpy whale when she heard the sound of the creaky front door slamming shut in the distance.

“Hermione!” she sat up with a start, upsetting the slumbering tabby. “Ops I’m sorry Beatrice.” She gave the yawning cat a quick pat before bounding barefoot for the little house. She stopped by the door to pat down her dress. Hermione had never said but Brea knew a “you’re not looking the proper lady” look when she received one. Once she felt she would pass muster she went to open the door. She stopped though when she overheard Harrys voice.

‘Harry usually doesn’t come on Mondays.’ She thought. Her curiosity present again she listened.

“Martha she has got to know. She deserves-“

“No young man you may be the boy who lived but-“

“-to know. It’s time for her to come down from this fantasy castle in the clouds. I know what it’s like to have important details-”

“But she’s so sensitive. And caring. You know how sick she got when that old barn cats kitten was stillborn. She didn’t leave her room for three days!” At this point Brea was certain they were talking about her.

Her first and only encounter with death. She could still remember ole Beatrice sadly nudging the eerily still kitten. With a shudder she pulled her attention back to the conversation as Harry groaned in frustration and she knew he was ruffling his black hair.

“We should have told her years ago. Never hidden her-“

“Harry” Hermione spoke up.

“No Hermione I gave into you before. Allowed you to protect her. We never thought about the effect of the future.” Brea had finally had enough of their arguing so she made her entrance. She tried to seem as if she hadn’t heard anything but their expressions told her they knew otherwise. Martha bustled to her and led her by the shoulders to sit in a chair. Harry paced several moments as everyone watched him.  
“Brea.” He began “…there are some things-. “ He broke off when there was a pecking at the window. The sound startled Brea and caused Martha to burst into tears. She looked around till she saw a small owl, light brown with dark specks. The owl hooted and pecked at the glass again.

Martha sniffled into a kerchief from a silent Ron and said “Go on dear, let her in. I suspect she’s here for you.” Brea with wide amber eyes walked to the window and opened it enough for the little owl to hop in. Brea’s eyes went right to the envelope she carried in with her and she gasped when she saw the envelope was addressed to her.

“For me?” she said in surprise. She had never received mail much less something delivered by an owl. Hermione looked sad when she said “Open it.” Brea however grinned in excitement. Her eyes once again wide as she read her name being accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She reread several times before she spun a turn exclaiming “I get to go to a school just for teaching me how to use magic!” Harry had a small smile at her excitement while the two witches nodded.

Brea was suddenly asking dozens of questions. Where was it at, what the professors were like, when could she get her wand, and so many more. Harry answered as best and honestly as possible while still trying to avoid revealing too much about the dangers he had faced. Martha finally sent Brea off to get cleaned up for dinner. Once the girl was gone she turned back to Harry.

“Please Harry she’s too young for this.” She pleaded. “Once she learns of the true world she will not be the same. She’s not strong enough for this rubbish unknown task!”

Harry was silent for a moment. “She’s stronger than you think Martha.”

Hermione finally spoke up “I’m terrified for her but Hogwarts should be an adventure. Not the same way as it was for us Merlin no. As much as the thought of our sweet innocent girl learning just how dark the world can be frightens me. She’s intelligent and brave Martha.”

Martha nodded sadly. “Just give me this last month.” At this moment Brea skipped into the sitting room.

“Hermione, Harry, Ron are you staying for dinner?”

“Ah sorry dear I must get back. In several weeks we will be taking you school supply shopping.” Hermione said. Brea gave a grin and her light amber eyes were as bright as ever.

\--Brea spent her last few weeks of summer doing every possible thing she loved before it was time to leave for her first term of school. On top of all the swimming and hay dives from the loft she also stayed up late every night reading books on potions, and charms.

“Light reading material from Hermione”, Ron had joked when Brea brought one of Hermione’s old potion books fishing.

The summer quickly dwindled away and on the morning of Brea’s departure she woke extra early. She slipped on her robe and crept quietly from the house and walked silently to the pond to sit at the water’s edge awaiting the sun rise. Brea was clever enough to understand that she was in for a major change in her life. Knowing she would be away from the only place she knew and loved. After a few moments to her delight a handsome red fox walked from the tree line beyond the pond. He trotted slowly to the pond and took a cautious drink of the cool water. Brea watched silently until it sat in his spot, watching her back. “It’s only for a little while.” She said to the lone fox. “I’ll be back before I know it. I’ll be brave when I board the express.”

“Brea!” she heard Martha holler her name from the house so she hopped up and whispered a goodbye to the fox before running back to her home to prepare for the day ahead.

After a tearful goodbye to Martha and a promise to write often she took Hermione’s hand. She had time for one last look at the place that had been her whole world for eleven years of her life. And then she felt a sensation of being pulled away and she was gone with a pop. She appeared in a dreary looking pub that Ron called the Leaky Cauldron still holding Hermione’s hand but she stumbled as they landed, dizziness overcoming her. Not noticing the attention their appearance brought, Brea was led to a brick wall. Her amazement was greatly apparent as the bricks moved to create a doorway leading to Diagon Alley.

Brea stared around in wonder as witches and wizards of all ages walked the cobbled street. Their robes swishing and swaying and their hats pointy. Brea had to duck as a heavy looking box floated by her. Harry and Hermione took Brea to get her wand while Ron said he was going to take her chest to Harry’s home. While he discussed the arrival of his family Brea noticed the shop they stood before was rickety and old and when she stepped inside leaving the others outside, the shop walls and shelves were stacked to the celling with thin boxes of every color. She was greeted kindly by an ancient man who introduced himself as Ollivander and he began to pull out several boxes, each with a unique wand.  
Brea gave several wands a try but none of them felt right, causing quite the mess much to Brea’s surprised chagrin. Ollivander took out one last white box and when Brea lifted the thin pale wand of sycamore the energetic feeling that filled her was everything she could have hoped for. She felt warmth and excitement hum through her.  
Ollivander gave an all knowing smile “ah sycamore wood with a very pretty unicorn tail hair core. I hope you have many adventures planned for this wand.”

Brea tilted her head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“Well each wand has a type of personality in relation to the wood they are crafted from. And common for sycamore, like your wand here, is known to get bored if not used.”  
Brea’s light amber eyes were excited and she whispered “Fantastic.”

“Now then it will be four galleons please.”

Brea looked up in a panic “I apologize Mr. Ollivander. I must earn some money before I can purchase this wonderful wand.”

Harry who had entered just before Ollivander had opened the final wand box, and was standing with Hermione as they watched Brea’s first experience with a wand, stepped forward, “Brea I should have done this before we arrived but I forgot.” He knelt down and pulled a shiny key from his pocket. “This Brea is a copy to my key which goes to the Potter vault at Gringotts. Anytime you ever need anything, just take this key to the goblins and take what you need. Understand?” Brea nodded and slipped her new key into her sweater pocket.

“Thank you Harry.” Harry nodded then slipped Ollivander his money. With a smile and a wave at old ancient Ollivander she was ushered out the door and back to the street.

“I have something for you too Brea” Hermione said. “I’m sort of known for this particular charm.” She pulled a small velvet bag in the style of a messenger bag Brea guessed, from her pocket. It was the color of cream, embroidered with a tiny white fox sitting among colorful flowers. Brea loved it instantly and thanked Hermione with a hug. “There’s more to it however ever.” She lowered her voice “it’s a bit… err… illegal so try and keep it a secret. This bag is special. What I mean is I placed an undetectable extension charm on it. What you can fit into this bag is endless. Extremely useful magic.”

“Hermione that’s incredible!” Brea exclaimed and she thanked her dear friend.

“Go on and put your wand and key inside why don’t you?” Hermione smiled at the dear girl. Then the three were off for more shopping.

\--By the end of the morning Brea had her new robes, books, quills, potions supplies, parchment and ink safely in her new bag. At one point Brea had tripped over a bucket of water and soaked her shoes and stockings. She paid close attention as Hermione used her wand to cast a simple drying spell. Their last stop was the ever bright and spectacular Weasleys Wizard Wheezes. Hermione and Harry grew quiet and tense at their approach and Hermione’s hand held tightly on Brea’s own little hand. Brea noticed and squeezed back but was quickly distracted by a tall man with amazing red hair and magenta robes and the bluest of eyes. Not quite the shade of her favorite blue of blues but they were certainly close. Brea thought he was extremely dashing with his missing ear.

“Harry! Hermione!” he greeted.

“George! Pleased to see you. Brea this is George, Ron’s older brother-“

“More handsome brother-“George broke in with a wink and Brea smiled back shyly.

“George this is Brea Fox our dear friend and she is a first year.” Harry finished in a friendly voice and Hermione stepped up to give George a warm hug after which George knelt down and shook Brea’s hand.

“First year huh. Well you just let Georgie here take care of everything.” Before Brea could utter a word he disappeared into the crowd. A short time later he found the three visitors were watching the pygmy puffs. “Brea my dear girl!” he called out once he found them. He had a very large bag with him and full to bursting. “This my wonderful fox is everything you will need for your years at Hogwarts. It has all the best and I’m relying on you to cause a healthy serving of mischief.”

Hermione had to bite her lip and push her inner prefect to the side. George nodded and gave her a wink while Brea whopped and began to pour the items into her new bag from Hermione.

“Thank you Georgie!” Brea jumped at him with a hug.

“You’re very welcome. And if you promise to get detention at least once a month from crabby ole Filch, then I’ll give you everything plus the little pink pygmy puff you were eyeing, on the house.” Before Harry could protest George continued. “Now if you lot are ready I believe we are expected at Grimmould place yea?” and ushered the group outside, hollering at someone named Lee that he was leaving.

Brea skipped through the door and bumped into a tall wizard, ungracefully falling onto her bum. She looked up through her lashes, a blush coloring her cheeks. He had hair the color of her own and pale blue eyes, he was very handsome with is immaculate appearance except for the haunted look in his eyes.

“I’m so sorry sir!” Brea rushed to apologize. He merely gave a small smile and chucked her under her chin once he bent low to help her stand, even dusting her sweater off. He looked at the two wizards behind her and nodded to them, before locking his eyes on Hermione. Brea noticed Hermione look towards the cobbled stone at their feet, biting her bottom lip. Brea’s young mind suspected there was a fairytale gone awry there but kept her thoughts to herself.

“Malfoy” Harry replied and the sharply handsome wizard continued to walk away. “Brea is your pygmy puff in your pocket? Yes?” and after her answering nod she took Harrys hand. The next moment she’s standing before a large building watching it expand until a whole other house was in the middle. A wide eyed Brea looked around to see if anyone had noticed, surprised when none of the passerby’s paid them any attention. With a bewildered shake of her head, Brea followed Hermione inside the grim looking old house.


	3. Braving the First Storm

Hermione led the small group down a narrow hallway that despite all the lighting still managed to look dark and dusty. A voice began to push at the back of Brea’s mind. After looking around her shoulder to find the culprit Brea shrugged it away as a sign of too much excitement

Once in the much brighter kitchen Brea was surrounded by more people than she could have ever imagined. There was the familiar Ron who quickly introduced her to his parents Molly and Arthur, both welcoming the little girl with hugs and promises of pastries. Surprised to meet yet another older brother of his, Charlie who shook her hand, and his younger sister Ginny, all who shared the same red hair has himself and George. Brea was amazed that Ron had such a large family and briefly felt dark envy for the first time. Once everyone had greeted her she watched as Charlie and George exchanged brotherly hugs, apparently Charlie had just arrived after a long absence.

Joining the Weasley family moments later was the Minister of Magic himself Kingsly Shacklebolt. Brea was warmly greeted and tried to hide her sick nervousness with polite smiles and attentive conversation. She was feeling rather intimidated by the attention, overwhelmed by the overly polite compliments on her dress, to the point she didn’t quite know what to say or do.

During a relatively quiet dinner, Brea learned she knew very little about her friends. She never considered that they had lives of their own, even if they only spent a day or two out of the week with her and Martha. She had always considered them her family but then she had never been around a true family. Martha had always been Martha to her. Never grandmother or grandma. The same went for Hermione, Ron, and Harry. Never lieing about being of any relation to her and now Brea was beginning to wonder why.

Brea felt envy eat at her again as Ginny and George each flicked their peas at a protesting Ron, ignoring Molly’s cries for them to behave as adults. Life at the farm had never been dull but she had never had the companionship of someone her own age. The young witch now realized she had been missing something. She didn’t understand why she felt angry at their obvious enjoyment, figuring something must be wrong with her. Deciding to find out more about what she guessed were simply her friends rather than family Brea listened in on the others conversation.

She learned from listening to Harry, Kingsly and Arthur that Harry and Ron were some sort of wizard police, she was unsure exactly as they talked in quiet voices about the search for a wicked man named Macnair. Wanting to know more about the trio Brea finally spoke up. “Is this where you three come when you leave the farm?”

Her sudden question brought silence as the adults exchanged glances. Harry had informed everyone about Brea and what was to transpire tonight, but many were still unsure about how to go about the situation. The little witches question sat unanswered for a moment until Hermione spoke first.

“I actually live here with Harry. This is his home, and we work for the Ministry of Magic. I am an advisor of Mr. Shacklebolt here, and Harry is an Auror. Ron lives with George above the shop and is an Auror as well.” She said in an informative voice.

“Are any of you in love?” Brea sensed immediately that she had broached an ultra-sensitive issue, Ginny looked toward Harry but he didn’t meet her gaze. Everyone ignored the question while Charlie took the initiative to change the subject. Charlie kept Brea fascinated with his grand tales of being a dragon keeper and the many lands he had travelled to, easing the tension she had been feeling since entering Grimmould Place. A tension and a whispering voice in the back of her head ever since her arrival.

Momentarily relieved, Hermione whispered to Harry and George that she suspected the little witch of being half in love with Charlie already as she took in the stories with wide eyes. He even told her about a newly discovered thirteenth use for Dragons Blood to which he told her with great confidence, she is to use the information to impress her class mates. After some time the light had dimmed outside and rain began to patter the windows. Kingsly finally cleared his throat and spoke once he had everyone’s attention.

“Now a few of us here know the true reason behind this meeting. A few others may suspect.” He gave a nod to Arthur. “The situation is this. Years ago, nearly twelve now, Brea here was born. Most of you remember the night. Brea is a very special and unique witch. The details are still unclear as of this moment, but I hear we should expect great things from her.” Everyone sat in rapt attention, and none more so than Brea as Kingsly stood before them. She didn’t like this attention nor them discussing of her as if she weren’t there, and her sick nervous feeling returned.

“It came down to the fact that Brea’s safety was paramount. Ron, Hermione, Harry and I took steps to ensure she was kept safe. And well….time caught up to us and the time has come for her to take her place at Hogwarts.” At this point Harry knelt down by the chair Brea occupied continuing where he minister left off.

“At the time when we made the decision all we could think of was protecting you in the only way we knew how. You are very important to this world Brea. To us.” Harry looked into her eyes. She could see sadness and regret. His apprehensive expression had Brea reeling because he had never been anything but kind and funny in her presence. This realization had her quickly glancing at Ron’s expression. He had the look that he wanted to say something but his father’s hand on his shoulder kept him silent. Hermione was pensive and unable to sit still, she was standing next to Ron. Her three friends had equal parts of dread and sadness etched into their frowns.

‘Has their happiness at the farm been nothing but pretense?’ Brea wondered to herself. ‘Why would they hide their sadness from me? I’m their friend… no their family, so why would they treat me as nothing more than an acquaintance?’ Brea desperately wanted to know. These feelings of uncertainty were all new to her and she was lost on how to ask her burning questions. In wide eyed silence she waited for Harry to continue, hopeful her questions would be answered without her asking.

“In the process we also kept many, so many things from you. What I’m about to tell you, what all of us have to share is why we wanted you safe, kept far away from this madness. I want you to listen very carefully and please remember we only wanted to spare you the world’s ugly truths until the time came for you to take your place. I felt as it was us who kept you so sheltered, we should be the ones to shed the light rather than someone else.” Brea nodded slowly, a little frown etched on her young face, and tried to ignore the incoherent whispering in her mind again.

Harry began to tell an unbelievable tale of a child who let himself be twisted by evil and hatred, and his destructive search for immortality. He didn’t mention the child’s name and Brea was at once too frightened to ask. Unable to comprehend the idea of someone her age, already full of evil? It’s something out of a dark and unhappy storybook.

She was told of horrors she could have never imagined and felt true fear for the first time when she heard the title Death Eater and of their Dark Lord, Voldemort. Harry spoke of his parents and their friends. Molly of her brothers and son. She cried silently at the sacrifice Lilly made which saved Harrys life and the unfairness of Sirius Blacks imprisonment in a place which sounded so dark and cruel. Harry moved on to his childhood and how his own journey began through Hogwarts. How it became entwined with Hermione and Ron. Eventually he came the part of discovering the horcruxes. The dark magic sounded so vile that Brea thought she might truly be sick. It was no wonder they didn’t tell her before. Who would want to be a part of such a miserable world? Brea no longer felt brave, suddenly wishing she were back at the farm with Martha and their animals.

She was beginning to feel light headed from pushing away the constantly whispering voice and beginning to feel like she was missing pieces of the story, she struggled to catch up. Finally Harry and the others stopped talking, stopped pushing everything into her mind. She was aching with unanswered questions but was too afraid to ask. That didn’t stop them from tumbling around her mind.  
‘Why were they telling me this? Just what is so important about me? I’m just a little farm girl. Why shelter me from this… this insanity only to dump it all at once on me?’ she sighed and rubbed her eyes.

“Brea dear… I have some photos we put together for you. To help you understand.” Molly said quietly. She had been furious when she discovered what her son, Harry, and Hermione had done to the poor child. She understood the need to protect the dear girl, but sheltering her to this extent and then just expecting her to understand all at once was irresponsible and cruel. The Weasley matron had given each of them a piece of her mind a week ago when they sat her down to ask for her and Arthurs help.  
Brea nodded silently and accepted the thick stack of moving photographs... There was the one of James and Lily, another of Remus who was a werewolf, Tonks and their tiny son Teddy. She came to one with two young boys around her age. Both nearly identical and boyish.

“This was the only photo I could find of Sirius and his younger brother Regulus.”

Brea nodded silently, watching the young Sirius Black ruffle his little brothers black hair. The whispering in Brea’s mind grew louder yet still undistinguishable and it began to cause her a headache. The next photograph was of a young George Weasley and his identical twin. Their hair long and very red.

“That’s my Fred.” Molly sniffed and George gave a sad smile.

“He was Gred and I was Forge. The greatest pranksters at Hogwarts since the Marauders.” George said. Brea ran a finger down the photograph as the brothers’ juggled fireworks, their faces happy.

“That’s what I’ll name my pygmy puff.” Brea said reaching over and giving George’s hand a squeeze. “Gred.” George chuckled and gave her a light kiss on the forehead.

Harry continued with his story detailing how Regulus had discovered Voldemort’s plan and found the first horcrux. Salazar Slytherin’s locket. Sirius died believing his brother a loyal Death Eater when he couldn’t have been further from the truth. Brea was honestly fascinated by all the stories she was being told but she began to silently urge Harry to continue so she could leave. She didn’t know what to do with what she was being told. What to think anymore.

That so many could have died because of something that seemed so inconsequential. Learning how such a terrible creature used young Draco Malfoy and his family to commit terrible acts. Brea was next told about how Harry, Ron, and Hermione faced torture, danger, starvation and hopelessness in order to find the remaining Horcruxes and how they destroyed them. Appalled and sick as Hermione gave a brief description of being tortured. This lead to the final battle at Hogwarts, at this point Brea picked up on each Weasley family member tensing up.

She cried silent tears at each death she learned of. She was astounded to learn of everything the terrible sounding Severus Snape had done to help defeat Voldemort and for the poor reason of his death. She felt Fred’s death deeply as she watched his family still grieve for him. The brave women Ron and George had loved and lost. She could see the guilt in their eyes at being survivors. A terrible fate everyone in that battle faced.

Just when she didn’t think she could possibly bear to hear another word Harry described how Neville had used the legendary Gryffindor Sword to kill Nagini the last Horcrux and Harry was able to defeat Voldemort.

Brea was completely drained as she sat in silence. Her eyes staring unseeing at the photo of Fred and George in her hand still.  
After several moments of silence Hermione softly spoke, “I remember in my fourth year….Fred and George here were so determined to enter that tournament. Two brave, and utterly ridiculous Gryffindors.” She grinned as she looked at George. “I’ll never forget how you two looked with those beards. Did I ever say I told you so?” Most of the others chuckled and began to share some of their own happy memories.

Eventually launching into what to do at Hogwarts and the secrets it held.  
Brea felt a bit better as she tried to listen to George explain about how to find the kitchens. She still hadn’t spoken since Harry finished telling her a bit of their history. Still confused on how to process so much information and trying to imagine her kind friends facing such horror. How could they possibly be so brave? So fearless? Brea always thought she was so incredibly brave, so amazing to jump from the loft, but now the idea of leaving safe wonderful Martha behind for a world where you were killed for your beliefs? Frankly she was terrified and Brea felt cowardice, another new emotion for the first time in her life.

Brea kept hoping they would finish so she could go to bed. Couldn’t they see how exhausted she was now? How much she simply wanted to hide under the blankets? She had woken very early, spent a good portion of the day on her first shopping trip, and met a wide range of new people. And most of all just learned that there were people out there who could be so twisted. She was no fool, she knew that not all people were the same and a few were even less than kind, after all she had read many fairytale books. She just never realized there could be such deep hatred for anything much less another human.

“Brea…..Brea dear” Molly broke into her thoughts. “Come now you must be exhausted. Let’s get you to your room.” Brea gave a wobbly smile and nodded gratefully. Before she could follow Harry, Charlie swooped her up to carry her. Her newly named Gred squeaked from her pocked in protest but Brea giggled at one of her favorite feelings. When Ron would carry her around farm, she felt just like a bird in flight. Course that was from atop his shoulders. Here cuddled in Charlie’s arms she felt safe for the brief moment it lasted. Each of the others told her to have a good night and they would see her again.

Ron gave her a kiss on the cheek and Kingsley a deep bow. Ginny said that she may not see her for a while as she had practice for a Quidditch match but told her to keep the boys of Hogwarts in line and to look up the Bat-Bogey Hex. Brea watched as Harry avoided the beautiful woman.

As she walked closer to the door Harry made his way to the opposite side. Ginny pretended not to notice as she left the house, accustomed to Harry avoiding her. She knew why he did. The silly bloke thought he was protecting her since in his line of work he was still hunting down the few Death Eaters still in hiding. Ginny hadn’t given up on Harry but he sorely tried her patience.  
George slipped her a box of glow in the dark gum and took his own leave. Finally Charlie followed Harry and Hermione up more stairs. Harry stopped before two doors and opened one.

“This was Regulus’s room. It hasn’t been used in some time but I had it cleaned up and I hope the coverings are ok.” Brea looked around still in Charlie’s arms and took in the medium sized room, a four poster bed, a dresser, book case, a handsome desk and a chair. All the furnishings were dark but clean, the bed covered in a warm duvet. Various books were on the shelves, a few girly stuffed animals on the dresser and on the walls hung posters of various forest animals. Brea thought the room nice yet a bit overdone on the whole girl part.

“It’s uh nice Harry.” She then leaned up to whisper in Charlie’s ear. He laughed and sat her down.

“My pleasure my damsel.” He then pulled out his wand and with a flick the posters changed from cuddly looking animals to Robin Hood shooting an arrow, and Aslan from Narnia leading the children over a hill. Hermione laughed and patted Harry on the back as he hung his head in exasperation.

Brea gave him a tight hug and said “Truly thank you Harry. Are….were all of these once Regulus’s furnishings?”

“Yes they were. Only everything was covered in Slytherin green and silver and sadly instead of posters of Quidditch and wizard music stars he had news clippings of Voldemort’s terrorizing of both the muggle and wizarding world. He was so determined to please his parents. Sirius also had a good degree of influence and I like to believe that if both had been able to put their arrogance aside then maybe Regulus would have never joined the Death Eaters.”

Brea heard a muttering from the hall way and saw an unusual little creature sulk by. “That was the Blacks house elf Kreatur. Regulus loved that old elf. Sirius… not as much.” Hermione said. Brea nodded and sat on the edge of the bed, her feet dangling. “Alright boys shoo” Hermione told Harry and Charlie and motioned for the two wizards to leave the room. Each gave Brea a hug goodnight. Harry said he would be down the hall if she needed anything. Charlie gave her a hairpin with a Common Welsh Green dragon he called it. Delighted with the gift she waved goodbye. Once it was just her and Hermione Brea let her shoulders slump.

“How are you feeling plum?”

“I can’t possibly know and comprehend it yet.” Brea said with a tired sigh. Hermione sat beside her and wrapped her arm around Brea’s shoulders. “I never knew you had been through… any of that. I was very upset when I realized you were pretending to be happy around me… but it’s no wonder you hid your true self.”

Hermione wrapped her securely in her arms and Brea inhaled her sent of violets, fighting back tears as Hermione rushed to sooth her. “Oh plum don’t you see? You brought happiness to us. We were hopeless and lost until you came along.” Hermione pulled back and pushed Brea’s hair from her face, her eyes glassy. “I loved you from the moment I held you as a newly born squalling baby. Sure Harry Ron and I are all missing a special piece of ourselves, but you lovely Brea, you made it all better. Became a part of our ragtag and mismatched family.”

Brea blinked sheepishly as she felt silly for her earlier doubts and envy. “So you do think of me as family? Not just a friend?” she asked hopefully.

Hermione pulled Brea back to her chest. “Brea you will never be just a friend. You are the moon of my life. Spreading beautiful light across the darkness. I wished I could raise you as my sister, out in the open, but for your safety I kept my distance.” Hermione sighed. “I regret that we made you feel doubt and placed a terrible burden on you. Someday when you’re ready, I’ll stand beside you when you take this miserable journey by storm.”

Brea smiled into Hermione’s shoulder, feeling relieved and oh so much better about the night. Relieved that she wouldn’t be alone. She found the thought of being alone in all of this uncertainty altogether terrifying. A thought crossed Brea’s sleepy mind.

“You loved him didn’t you? Draco that is. The man we met earlier.” She asked as she nuzzled her nose into Hermione’s wild hair, comfort surrounding her.

Hermione nodded sadly not even shocked that clever little Brea could come to the correct conclusion with as few facts that she had.

“We were complete opposites he and I. Him as a pureblood, myself as a muggleborn. He was forced into choosing cruelty and family while I had the freedom to choose freedom.” She softly ran her hand over Brea’s hair which reminded her so much of afore mentioned wizards hair. “We were always competing for top of our year and I know if we had had attended seventh year he and I would have been head boy and girl. Despite all the fights and name calling, the curses exchanged… I never felt more alive. A fantastic dancer, all the Malfoy men were he would pompously brag. We were to practice for a Christmas Ball one year, much to our dismay we were paired for practice, and it annoyed him to no end how atrocious I was. Naturally it led to an argument.”

“But the wars been over for years! He sounded perfect for you Hermione.” Brea said softly.

“Well… as always with matters of the heart it’s complicated. By the time the war was over things were in motion which were out of our control. But enough worrying about me.” Hermione was more than ready to change the subject. You have had the most exhausting day. Now since your bag here is technically illegal you will need your trunk for appearances. If I may suggest we put several items of clothes and anything of great importance inside the bag and the rest in the trunk. One can never be over prepared. Especially when Hogwarts is involved.”  
Brea grinned and opened her trunk. She put her cloak which had been a gift from Hermione, several flower print dresses and skirts, stockings, knickers, two pairs of jeans, t-shirts, a set of flannel pajamas and her one pair of boots. An empty photo album from Hermione, her favorite story books, and the necklace from Martha. Hermione nodded her approval. After a moment she added the pictures she had been given earlier, promising to add them to her album.

“I’ll be across the hall in Sirius’s old room. It had to have a total make over too you know. Posters of cars and women in their knickers I tell you.” Brea giggled and wished Hermione a goodnight.

Once alone she was determined not to think any more about what she had learned. It was all over and couldn’t possible bother her anymore. Instead she opted to explore her new temporary room. She wasn’t due to leave for Hogwarts for a few more days so she might as well become acquainted with it. Brea studied the books on the tall shelves. None of them really seemed too interesting though the Guide to Medieval Sorcery and the Natures Nobility: A Wizarding Genealogy both caught her eye. She slipped them into her bag without hesitation, positive Harry wouldn’t mind. The dresser didn’t have anything overly interesting and neither did the little drawers of the desk. Deciding the room held no hidden secrets Brea pulled out Quidditch through the Ages and curled up on the bed. Brea set Gred beside her on the pillow and he…she...it? Brea wasn’t entirely sure but settled with ‘he’. Gred cuddled into Brea’s light hair and she began to read her book. It wasn’t long before the steady sound of rain on the windows lulled Brea to sleep and she was pulled into a white dream.

_The day was stunning outside and I couldn’t wait to put on my thick snow boots. Once I was dressed for the perfectly new white snow outside, I ran outside with a shouted bye to Martha in the kitchen. I ran as fast as the ankle deep snow would allow until I was at a forest edge. I didn’t stop but I did slow to a walk as I ducked under low branches and moved branches of bushes out of the way. The sun was shining through the high tree tops warming my cheeks and birds sang me a song. I wasn’t sure why I was so happy but I never wanted the feeling to leave. It was winter and winter was my favorite time of year. I had been walking for some time talking to the forest animals. A stag in the distance keeping watch, I told him how majestic he looked and the story of Bambi was a favorite of mine. He didn’t seem impressed but watched me anyways. An owl flew overhead her shadow rippling on the snow. I was watching her swoop down to a tree which I must assume was her home, not paying attention to where I was stepping. So naturally I trip over the only fallen log in the forest I was sure. So here I am sprawled out in the snow trying to decide if I was going to giggle at myself or scold instead.Out of the corner of my eye my perfect day turns into a horrific scene. A dear young fox was running as fast as his short legs could. His fur was a gleaming red and the tip of his tail was white as the snow he ran on. The fox wasn’t the terrible part though it was what seemed to be chasing him. Everything began to darken. A wall of indistinguishable shapes and shadows moved through the forest just moments behind the little fox._

_“_ _No!” I shout. I knew right away I had to do something. I had not a clue as to what I could do. I scramble up out of the dirt and snow and give chase after the fox. The icy air begins to burn my lungs as I gasp for frantic breaths of panic. I didn’t think I would ever catch up but somehow (I suppose since I was running towards the fox at an angle rather than from behind) I catch up. I was at the water’s edge of a painfully icy looking pond. It wasn’t frozen over but my brief glance took in the chunks of ice floating in it. I knelt by the water and for some odd reason the fox leapt into my arms. I only had a moment to take in the wide eyes before the wall of shadows were upon us. I knew I should have thought my actions through a bit more since it seems stopping to pick up the fox was a terrible idea. Perhaps I should have stood my ground with that solid looking branch I saw near here._

_My brief time of contemplation was over as the gruesome shadows over took the little fox and I. The force sent the two of us stumbling and splashing into the freezing cold water of the pond. I struggled to hold my Breath, hold the fox and swim for the surface. I was making slow progress and my free hand had just broken the surface when a firm hand gripped my ankle. Before I could take further action the poor fox and I-_

A loud clap of thunder sends Brea sitting up gasping for breath. She quickly feels of her body taking in that she was warm and dry. She was at Harry’s house in the city of London not in a snowy forest. Trying to calm her breathing Brea decided she need to tell Hermione about the dream. A dream starting out in white and ending in black MUST mean something. She noticed the time was still early but not too early that Hermione would mind being awoken.

Brea slipped Gred in her sweater pocket and set her bag over her shoulder again. She already felt like she was missing clothing now when the bag was not on her. Softly walking to the hall way she knocked on Hermione’s door. When she heard no admission Brea decided to enter. As soon as Brea stepped inside she noticed two things. One Hermione was not in the room, she was possibly down in the kitchen for some breakfast, and two the whispering voice just became much louder.

The words were muffled enough that Brea couldn’t understand what was being said and her curiosity had finally reached its limit.

“The source must be in here” Brea whispered. After looking through the obvious places such as the dresser and under the pillow Brea saw a little purple purse with beads stitched on, hanging from the post of the bed. Now knowing Hermione’s penchant for extension charms Brea knew the source was coming from that purse. In the back of Brea’s mind she knew she shouldn’t break Hermione’s trust but Brea just couldn’t stand not knowing what she was hearing anymore. With that decided she opened the purse and reached inside. She felt common items such as quills and books and….. Was that a full sized portrait? Brea stuck her tongue out in determination and reach further. Near the moment of giving up Brea felt a solid round object, and was cold to the touch. She pulled the object out and immediately fell to her knees as the soft voice filled her mind, her heart, and her soul. The swirling white of the crystal ball entrancing her.

_“Brought forth on Winter’s Breath, She will cross the impossible distance. Shown the way by the brightest of minds She will give back which was cruelly lost. Fighting for the world only when love is Her goal, once, twice, forever, time will weave its mistake until She returns.”_

Brea faltered as the words rushed through her like a blizzard. The energy pulsing through the young witch rendered her frozen as a jagged crack appeared before her. Brea’s eyes widened as recognized it from her dream the morning after her birthday.

“Brea?” Hermione said from the hallway. Brea leapt up with the crystal ball tight in her hands and ran. She pushed by Hermione who shouted her name in alarm and ran after her. They ran up the stairs and Brea went through the first door she came to. At this point Harry was following Hermione and they both shouted for her to stop.

The door led to a balcony on the back side of the building. The rain was still pouring in torrents and the lightening was dangerously close. Brea didn’t care though. She was frightened and she felt a confusing longing pull at her. Tell her to stop fighting. She felt pain in her soul and she knew it was the pain of everyone she loved.

The frantic little girl allowed the wind to whip at her hair, the rain stinging her cheeks and mixing with her tears. She huddled over the crystal ball her mind working at trying to make out what everything meant. What any of this had to do with her.

Like the flashes of lightening, which were continuously crashing around her, faces went through her mind, of Draco Malfoy trying so impossibly hard to kill Dumbledore in order to save his family, Ron torn between grieving over his lost brother or his lost soul mate, a little Teddy in the arms of Harry as his parents were buried. Brea could no longer hear the shouts of Hermione and Harry. She only heard the rain, lightening, and the cries of pain from good decent people suffering, with her eyes closed tightly.

Hermione was in a soul wrenching panic as she watched Brea. Horror filled her as a crack in the space behind Brea, seemingly opened up, light pouring through. Hermione screamed for Harry as multiple skeletal like arms reached from behind the sobbing girl. The thin fingers were pale and feminine, the arms seemed to reach forever, sliding up Brea’s shivering back and around to grip her arms. Brea seemed unaware of what was happening, lost in her own misery. Hermione realized she was about to lose her little witch. She reached out her hand to touch Brea’s arm but the ghostly pale arms pulled on Brea with a snap and then Hermione knew no more. The world was black.


	4. Upside Down Goes the World

The morning was early and the grounds covered in mist as a tall thin witch with dark flowing robes and a pointy hat on her grey hair swished through the castle halls of Hogwarts. Her pace was almost at a run which was very uncharacteristic for Minerva McGonagall, with a large dusty old book clutched in her arms.

Once upon the familiar old gargoyle statue, she quickly said the ridiculous password of “Buttercorn pops” and when the gargoyle moved in order to allow her access to the stairwell she quickly went up the stairs. She didn’t bother to knock on the door to the Headmaster’s office. What she had to share was too important for polite pleasantries.

“Albus. You must see this immediately.” Minerva set the great book down on Albus Dumbledore’s desk, once again before he could offer a reply.  
As Minerva opened the book and began to flip through pages, Albus sat back with twinkling blue eyes and greeted his longtime friend and colleague with “Good morning to you Minerva.” Minerva mumbled a good morning back but kept her attention on the book.

“See here!” she pointed to a page at last. “This name just moments ago, the quill wrote a name in the book as a witch. Her name is Brea Alara Fox.” Albus smiled in patience. “Yes I know that is the purpose of the quill. However this Miss Fox is not a new birth. According to this she is due to attend this year as a first year.” This unheard of circumstance caught the wise Headmaster’s attention and he sat forward to take a look himself. There she was in grand magical script between the names of Sarah Finlay and Jacob Furors.

“How extraordinary.” Albus muttered. “Dear Minerva I suspect this information is best kept between just you and I. And I must say. I am quite looking forward to meeting this mysterious Miss Brea Fox.”

\--Brea sat crumpled on her knees shivering in the light drizzle. Her long hair fell in limp pale tangles across her shoulders as she traced wet patterns on the crystal ball in her lap. The whispering had stopped at last which she was grateful for, and Harry and Hermione were no longer calling her name so she assumed they finally decided to give her peace. Allowing her the peace she required in order to figure out what demons were running rampant through her mind. The pain she had felt moments ago was now fading from her bones, leaving behind exhaustion and confusion.

She wasn’t thinking about any of those things however. Somehow her thoughts were on how even through everything she had learned the previous night no one had told her about her parents. It bothered her now quite suddenly how she never wondered about them before. She had had all the love from Martha, Ron, Hermione, and Harry that she needed so she never really missed the idea of a mum and dad.  
Would they have loved her in a different way? How many different ways could a person love? She sighed and figured she would ask Hermione and Harry after she had had some breakfast. Surely they would know right?

The sudden question of “who the bloody hell are you?” startled Brea from her thoughts with a jerk and she dropped her prophecy. She gasped and spun around with a stumble. Before her were two vaguely familiar dark haired boys her age. Both with superior looks on their faces.

“What’s that you have eh?” the older boy asked as he leaned a bit to look behind her. Brea’s eyes widened and she snatched her crystal ball up and slipped it into her bag. By now they were both eyeing her with extreme suspicion. “Alright then. Now again. Who. Are. You. I know you can hear so can you speak?” this older boy was beginning to grate on Brea’s nerves.

“My name is unimportant and just who are you. Where’s Harry? Does he know you’re here?” she snapped uncharacteristically and with a frown.

“Harry?” The younger boy looked over at the other with confusion. They exchanged a look before the older shrugged.

“Don’t know about a Harry but I’m Sirius Black and this is Reg-“

“Regulus Black.” Brea interrupted her eyes wide. “It’s not possible. You... you’re…” Brea felt panic blinding her as her breath quickened. “This is… extraordinarily and completely incomprehensible…” she drew off, her eyes flashing a clear gold as she took in her surroundings dazedly. She wasn’t entirely sure if anything had changed. All she could remember was what the flashes of lightening briefly allowed to be seen, but Brea realized she had been so consumed with her emotions that she had paid no attention to anything outside of her mind.  
Regulus spoke again “Do we know you?”

Brea didn’t reply she just took a cautious step forward. The patio wasn’t very large but she stepped up to Sirius and slowly walked around him looking him up and down. He waited in impatience.

“Are you done yet?” he said in a snippy tone.

“Shhh.” Brea hushed him into startled silence. After her inspection of Sirius she moved over to Regulus. He was already a bit taller than her and she stood almost nose to nose with him. Their eyes locked while Brea slowly lifted a finger a poked Regulus in the shoulder. She jumped back as he yelped out a “hey!” and she began to pace frantically. Since the patio was small she looked a bit ridiculous striding such a short distance back and forth. The two boys watched in curiosity as Brea muttered to herself and pulled on part of her hair. ‘This must be a dream. Please it has to be.’  
She suddenly stopped “Quickly. What is the exact date?” Sirius rolled his eyes and Regulus expression told her he thought she was mad. “I’m quite serious!” she cried out with a huff and hands on her hips. Brea whispered a quick sorry to Gred when he squeaked his disapproval at her hand hitting him. This only made her look even barmier in the brother’s eyes.

Despite her dramatic little display, Sirius told her the date in his own way. “As of twelve o’clock AM the date became…what day did it become again Reg?” Sirius said in a mocking tone. Regulus grinned and played along.

“Well now let’s see… if yesterday was Sunday and it was not my birthday…was it your birthday Sirius?” Regulus threw back to his brother. Brea really began to grow annoyed and ground her teeth in frustration. Standing with his hand on his chin in a pondering expression Sirius kept it going. Her head ached and she still was consumed with new emotions welling in her from the previous night, and the boys antics were growing tiresome.

“Hmmm nope don’t think so. Ah hah! Yesterday was Halloween right?”

Brea gave an unladylike growl, and stomped her foot. “Fine if you two would like to continue…” she then pushed past them and back into the house muttering about irritating Gryffindors and Slytherins. Both boys sputtered and rushed after her.

“What do you think you’re doing, stop there, you’re getting rain water everywhere!” Regulus cried after her and Sirius was shouting about how rude it was to just barge into someone’s home uninvited. Brea gave a “tch” and rolled her eyes while pulling her wand from her bag.

“Since you want to whine about it….I’d stand back since I’ve never done this before.” The boys surprisingly complied to her instructions and stood back in wide eyed caution. Brea closed her eyes and pictured Hermione casting the drying spell on her. She practiced the wand movement from her memory a few times before she said the charm. She held her breath and opened one eye to see what happened.  
Sirius and Regulus both had expressions of mirth and skepticism and Sirius laughed out “That’s a basic level spell! Are you sure you’re a witch?”  
“Well seeing as I just got my wand less than what I assume is twenty-four hours ago and that was my first attempt at an actual spell that I had only seen cast once before, I’d say I did fabulously!” Brea snapped out in irritation.

“So you are a first year then.” Regulus said. Brea ignored him and tried the spell again. This time when Brea gave the spell another try she got one stocking dry. She looked up in excitement and grinned in triumph. “Not bad” Regulus said finding her excitement infectious.

“Not bad indeed” Brea said and worked the spell again with more and more success. She left her hair wet but once she had herself mostly dry she took Gred out of her pocket. He was shivering and looked a bit miserable but looked over all ok. Sirius and Regulus both crowded closer to get a look at the creature.

“What the bloody hell is that!” Sirius cried.

“Hey! Language you! And don’t think I forgot you said it earlier.” Brea said with a scowl and poke to the chest. Sirius scowled back and rubbed the offended spot. “And as to what this is…” Brea just smirked and tapped the side of her nose. “I will tell you his name is Gred. And he’s very dear to me so don’t touch!” She sat Gred up on her shoulder, swatting Sirius hand away as her fluffy pet snuggled into her wet tangled hair. “Now then gentleman...” And Brea gave a saucy curtsy, turned smartly on her heel and walked away before either boy could say the next word.

Regulus shrugged his shoulders and followed the girl. “We should keep quiet.” He whispered over Brea’s shoulder “Mum and Dad might still be home and Kreacher, our house elf would- hey why are you going in my room?” Regulus ended his words of caution in indignant protestation as he and Sirius followed Brea into the invaded boy’s room. She didn’t hesitate, just walked toward the desk which was in the exact same spot as what she could only barely allow herself to call her own time.

“Well since you warts refuse to help me I have to figure everything out on my own” Brea replied back. She felt a small bit of satisfaction at insulting the boys. It was something she had never done before and knowing that her words were sharp enough to get a blush and a rise out of them made her feel… wickedly good. She snatched out a paper and quill from the desk and prepared to write, chewing on the tip of the elegant quill in thought.

“Hey! Those belong to me you know.” Regulus cried out.  
Brea shushed him and began to quickly write. Regulus turned to Sirius in wide mouth indignant shock.

“Don’t look at me I’m still trying to figure out where she blo- err came from.”

“Did you climb from a tree in the back?” Sirius asked. Brea only shrugged. She was busy writing down names of people that where alive in what she assumed to be 1972.

“Who are your family?” Regulus asked, his expression becoming arrogant again.

Brea was writing the name Kingsley Shacklebolt at the moment so she said without thought “Kingsley….Shacklebolt?” her tone hopeful that they bought it. When she had no reply she looked over her shoulder at the boys sitting on the bed. Each staring at her as if she were truly mad again. “He’s a… cousin? Twice removed? Oh fine you caught me. I’m an orphan who was raised by a kindly elderly witch. I have no earthly idea who they were, where they were from.” This next part she looked Regulus directly in the eyes “Nor if they were pureblood.” Then she resumed her writing. “Do either of you happen to know a Martha Sterling?” she said.

“Nope.” Sirius answered with a pop.

“Course not. That would make this whole situation too simple.” Brea grumbled. She began to scan her mind quickly writing a rough timeline of important events that she could remember. She wanted to get them written down quickly. The last date she wrote was of Lilly and James Potter’s deaths. Brea wasn’t sure what she was going to do about the situation but there it was.  
Once done she stood and found the brothers watching her in silence. Sirius seemed a bit bored and Regulus a bit amused. Brea smartly folded the parchment as small as she could and then shoved it in her bag.

“What’s the deal with your purse?” Sirius asked.

“It’s not a purse” Brea said with a roll of her eyes. “And…” she ended by only grinning with a tap the side of her nose again. Sirius groaned and fell backwards onto the bed and Regulus grinned back.

“Now then one of you most noble Blacks. If you would please point me and Gred here in the direction of Dragon Alley.” She gave the sleeping Gred on her shoulder a pat.

“Dragon Alley?” Regulus asked. “Do you mean Diagon Alley?”

“Yes, yes whatever it’s called. I need to get there.”

“Well we usually floo there to The Leaky Cauldron.”

“How is a loo supposed to get you to The Leaky Cauldron?” this time Brea looked at Regulus as if he were the mad one. He sighed in frustration and ran a hand over his short hair. Sirius chuckled and tossed a snitch in the hair as he laid on the bed.

“And you’re sure you’re a witch?”

“Hey! If you want to go on being unruly again-“

“And that’s another thing. You talk a bit different. Who says “unruly” anymore? You don’t seem old enough to talk as if you’re from last century” Regulus was now standing in front of her hands on hips and eyes wide.

“I just happen to not be a Neanderthal and actually read! You’d be surprised how sophisticated ones vocabulary can become from reading!” Brea’s overly sensitive emotions were rising too and she poked Regulus in the chest.

“Sophisticated! Hah! You have the manners of someone from the street!”

“At least I have manners! All you two bat faces would do when I asked for the bloody- shut up Sirius- date were to taunt and mock me!” the two were now shouting at the top of their lungs.

“All right all right calm down the both of you” Sirius stepped in between the two in order to bring peace. “If we can all be quiet for a second in time? Yea? Good. Let’s see if Mum and Dad are here. They will probably lose their minds if they find out Miss Invade-Our-Home here has been stomping about the Noble House of Black, in her cheap muggle shoes.”

Unsure if she was angry with the boy or merely amused, “Who would have ever though Sirius Black could have a sense of reason… even if he is insulting.” Brea muttered. Regulus heard and gave her another look with silent curiosity. Brea just shrugged and followed Sirius out of the room and down the hall. The three tiptoed cautiously down to a fireplace in the grand sitting room.  
‘Much grander than before... or later. Someday.’ Brea thought as she looked around the expansive room. Where before she had seen it in Harrys time it had been obviously old yet clean, the room was covered in permanent shadows and decades of terrible memories. It seemed as if no amount of lamps or candles could chase them away leaving Brea wondering why Harry would live in such a place full of unhappiness.

Now near forty years before then, the sitting room was almost… lovely. Silver picture frames and wall scones were polished bright, well working light fixtures brought a glow to all the corners, the furniture, though darkly coordinated with the elaborate rugs, spoke of wealth and the touch of a hard working servant. Or in this case house elf.

“Since my instinct tells me you have-hide!” Sirius ended the last on a frantic wide eyed whisper. He dove behind a tall thick tapestry with the Black family crest on it. Brea quickly looked for a place to hide herself when Regulus grabbed her wrist and pulled her into an alcove in the corner of the sitting room. It was a seated alcove and he swished the curtains closed. They were hidden from the outside view by the thickly vined tree, and the curtains on the inside. It wasn’t very large so the two huddled inside, with Regulus peeking through a small opening in the curtain. He watched as Kreacher walked around, slowly setting a newly polished silver candelabra back in the proper place.

Brea began to get bored. She wasn’t yet ready to think about what had happened. What it all meant. Instead she opted to find a bit of distraction. She saw a stack of blank parchments sitting on the windowsill, probably left behind by one of the boys, and an idea which she fund quite irresistible, began to form. She quickly glanced at Regulus who was still busy keeping watch on Kreacher. With a wicked grin she quietly slipped a parchment over to her and quietly ripped a small portion off and crumpled it into a small ball. Taking careful aim she flicked it at Regulus ear. When he simply swatted his hand at the air Brea frowned and grew more determined.

She flicked several balls of paper, each hitting Regulus in the side of the head before he turned a hot glare at her. He looked exaggeratingly dramatic when mouthed “will you please stop!” at her, his eyes promising to pay her back. She only grinned and flicked another parchment ball. This one, causing her hysterical delight hit him square in the left eye. He slapped a hand over his eye trying to stay quiet and Brea slapped a hand over her mouth trying to stifle her laughter.

Brea began to have the first bit of fun since her short amount of time with George and Charlie. The misery she was bringing to Black filled her with a sort of glee she dreaded letting go of.  
Regulus retribution was to make a rather large parchment ball, and he had just lifted his hand back to launch it, Brea still trying to get her laughter quietly under control, when the curtains were slung open quickly.

The two kids both froze in sudden fear which turned to relief when they saw it was only Sirius with an irritated expression.

“I don’t think who two understand the meaning of hiding for our lives. I could hear you two across the room! Kreacher must be getting hard of hearing if he didn’t hear you two.”

“Shove off Sirius we didn’t get caught. Let’s just get this done so I can finally get some breakfast.” Regulus said back. At that moment Brea’s stomach gave a wicked hungry growl.

“All right Blacks get me out of here and I’ll buy you breakfast.” Sirius gave a whoop of acceptance and Regulus an expression of reluctance. Brea had a knot in her stomach and realized she was afraid of being alone and these two were her life line. She slipped her arm around his and gave him a little nudge toward the fireplace.

“C’mon Black. Live a bit. Let us trio of underage wizards and witch go get some unsupervised breakfast. Perhaps you can brag to all your noble friends later on how you broke the rules and experienced some disapproval. You can’t allow bat face here to enjoy it all.” Both brothers raised their eyebrows and Sirius protested her likening him to a bat.

“I happen to know the birds find me irresistible.”

Brea rolled her whisky eyes and otherwise ignored the elder brother.

Regulus found himself giving in but instead of going easily he said “Fine, but I want to know about that creature tangled in your hair.” Brea happy for her win, agreed and pulled him to the fireplace.  
“Now teach me. Where I lived I never needed do this.”

“Lived?” Regulus said picking up on the past tense. Brea didn’t say anything only shrugged and stood to the side as Sirius grabbed a handful of what he said was floo powder. Told her to say where she wanted to go clearly and toss it down. She watched in rapt attention, taking in every detail as Sirius flooed to Diagon Alley in a burst of green fire.

“Fantastic! Ok I can do this. I can teach a duck to bring me flowers then I can send myself flying through a magical web of fireplaces.” Brea muttered to herself. Regulus watched in amusement as she settled into the fireplace, attempting to keep soot off her sweater and dress.

“It might be a good idea to put Gred there in your pocket.”

“Oh! Thank you.” Brea gave a quick curtsy and Regulus rolled his eyes.

“I’m going to find out why you do that.”

“Perhaps someday you’ll find out. Now I’m emotionally exhausted, hungry, and would adore putting on some clean clothes after a good shower. If I may, I’ll be flooing now.” She threw her handful of floo powder and shouted Diagon Alley. After the moment of seemingly flying through…something she wasn’t sure, Brea stumbled out of the connecting fireplace and falling onto her face. A moment later before Brea could even begin to pick herself up Regulus came out of the fireplace with a little more grace yet tripped over Brea’s feet and fell over her, knocking his head on a chair.

“Oi!” he shouted.

“Oh no Regulus! You should have given me a bit of a moment to get out of the way!” Brea shouted as she tried to help him stand after getting herself up.

“Oh I’m sorry I forgot it’s my fault that I’m now injured and bleeding.”

Brea yelped again “Bleeding! Where in all of storyland did Sirius get off to? Well come on let me see.” She pushed his hand to the side and there on his forehead was a tiny gash bleeding only slightly. “It’s not too bad” she said brushing his dark hair to the side of the cut. “Appears it will swell a bit I’m afraid.” Brea said softly. “I am sorry Regulus. Next time I’ll be sure to keep my feet out of the way when I fall flat on my face.” Regulus sighed and rolled his eyes, standing up he pulled her with him.

“Forget it. Let’s find where my git of a brother went and order something to eat.” Brea nodded and followed him through the tables and patrons whom had barely spared the kids a glance through all the ruckus. By the time they found Sirius seated at a table in the corner of the tavern, three plates of sausage and eggs with pumpkin juice waiting. Regulus and Brea sat across from Sirius.

“Well Black I was going to scold you terribly for abandoning your, in case you failed to notice, injured brother and I, but I shall look past it since you have food waiting.” Brea said lightly and causing Sirius to leaned forward and take a look at his little brother’s forehead.

“Oi there. Looks like you took a bludger to the head. Not sure how we will explain this one. Mum is sure to notice.” Regulus looked a bit pale at the thought of upsetting his mother. “I don’t know why you look so worried, I’m the one who will be blamed.” Sirius said carelessly, around a mouthful of eggs.

“Sirius! Honestly manners I swear.” Brea hissed at him. When she looked at Regulus she could see the miserable look on his face. “And did it never occur to you that that might be the reason Regulus looked so worried. I’m sure the last thing he would want is for you to be wrongfully punished for something.” Regulus looked at Brea in surprise that she could possibly pick up on something like that about a complete stranger. He didn’t know that Brea had a small bit of backstory on the brothers’ relationship. Sirius had the grace to look sheepish and looked at Regulus, telling him he was sorry.

“I promise I’ll think of something though. “

“Oh! I know! How about a hat!” Brea said happily and seeking to draw out the distraction that came with being around the young Black brothers brought, as long as possible.

“A hat?” Sirius asked skeptically.

“Yes! Hmmm.” Brea knew almost nothing about fashion in the early seventies and a quick glance around the tavern showed most of the men were not wearing one at all. She then tried to think of hats she knew of. “How about a proper top hat! Those are quite dapper right?”

“Sure only I don’t think top hats even exist in this century.” Regulus said sarcastically.

“Except maybe in a museum.” Sirius laughed. Brea rolled her eyes and continued to think as she chewed her breakfast slowly.

“I’ve got it! A fedora. Now that is a dangerous yet dashing looking hat!” Sirius smacked a hand down his face and Regulus groaned.

“I’ll just tell Mum I tripped over my chest while packing a few items.”

“Reg you are complete rubbish at lying to Mum.”

“Well we only have two more days before we leave. I suppose I can avoid her as much as I can.”

“I really am terribly sorry to have out you in a position of lying to your Mum. Perhaps I should just go confront her and make my apologies for intruding upon her home and causing her son injury.” Both Regulus and Sirius protested this idea.

“Are you mad? Our Mum is not someone who would take something like this nicely.” Sirius said and Regulus continued with

“Really it’s better for everyone if I just avoid her. Tell her I’m sick or something like that.” Brea gave in with a sigh and a nod.

She was sadly finished with her breakfast and so were the boys. She was reluctant to separate from them since she had never been truly alone yet she knew that they would be missed soon and the longer they sat here the more likely they would be caught. Something in which she did not want to happen. She slowly stood and walked to the counter, reluctant to take the first step in confirming her supposedly new reality.

There was a slightly younger looking Tom running a stained dish cloth over the surface of the aged counter top as she stepped up. Her chin barely cleared the top so she stood on her toes.  
“Hello Tom sir. I would like to pay for my breakfast as well as my two companions. And then I would like to rent a room for two nights if you have vacancy please.” Brea said the two nights with a glare at the brothers standing to her side, letting them know she had indeed picked up that bit of information, both of the bat faces just gave her a shrug. Tom raised his eyebrows when he noticed who she was with and gave each of the boys a slight nod in greeting.

“Now miss, your parents know you are here to get a room all alone?” Tom asked in a kind but concerned tone.  
Brea was too tired to think of a brilliant and adventurous cover story so she went with the truth instead. “Well you see sir, I have no parents. I’m an orphan and am to start Hogwarts this year so I’ll only be here for two days. I promise not to be in the way and I do have money to pay for my room and board.” At a loss as to what else he could do, Tom let her stay. She set the correct amount on the counter and took her key with a relieved thank you. She turned to the brothers, her face sad. Sirius grinned at her obvious reluctance to part with them.

“Chin up yea? You will be graced with our presence again.” Brea smiled at his superior expression and she hit Sirius in the arm.

“That’s for messing up my perfectly coiffed hair,” then surprising Regulus with a quick hug. “And that was for your knock on the head. Perhaps I’ll see you on the Hogwarts Express.” She said as she made her way up the stairs to the rooms. “By the way. You’re welcome for treating you both to a good breakfast. Bye Blacks.”

“Oi what’s your last name.” Sirius called.

Not seeing the harm n the truth Brea decided to finally tell them. “Ah… Brea Alara Fox.” She gave a wink and left them at the bottom of the stairs.

Sirius led the way back to the fireplace once Brea disappeared up the stairs.

“Alright let’s see if we can get back without being caught alright?” Regulus nodded in an agreement and the two quickly flooed back to their home. To their relief there was no one in the drawing room so the two boys hurried up to their rooms to get cleaned up. Afterwards, Regulus went across the hall to Sirius room and sat in his desk chair. “That had to be the most bizarre experience I have ever had Sirius. How do you think she got on the balcony? Its three stories high!”

“She must have climbed over from one of the other houses.”

“Hmm I wonder what for though. The whole situation was odd.”

“No clue we got no answer out of the barmy girl.”

“Oi! That’s right! She was supposed to tell me about that… that thing she calls a pet. It looked a bit like a puffskin but I had never seen one like that before.”  
Sirius laughed at his brother. “Don’t worry Reg I have the feeling that mad fox will be seen again. And then you can get your answers.” Regulus rolled his eyes and slouched down. He brushed his hair as far down his fore head as it would go hoping to hide the bruised cut.

“Not sure I’m looking forward to it.” He muttered and Sirius laughter filled the room.


	5. A Fox Lost

Back at the Leaky Cauldron Brea slowly made her way down the hall till she found the room number matching her key. She barely glanced around as she flopped ungracefully onto the rickety bed. Suddenly hit with how truly tired she was and what she had just been through, a sob broke from her chest.

She was alone. She had no Martha, or Harry, Ron and Hermione. No farm with its little pond and haystacks. She didn’t know how she got herself into the mess and panic was finally free to set in. She didn’t know who to contact nor where to go. Even after all the stories the broken friends and family had come together to share with her, and she still didn’t understand what was so special about her.

Did they honestly expect her to be able to do anything? “I can hardly tie my shoes and brush my hair!” the emotional girl cried out in a fit. “I want to go home. I don’t want to go to Hogwarts anymore…” but deep down the little witch knew she couldn’t go home. She couldn’t ask for help and she didn’t have the answers. All she could do for the moment was cry. So she curled into a little ball on her side. Pitiful soul wracking cries coming from her shaking little body for hours. She lost track of time and ended up asleep with tears still on her cheeks. At some point little pink Gred had crawled out of her pocket and nestled under her chin, his humming calming her down in her sleep.

She didn’t dream this time so her sleep was empty and when she woke up the sun had already set. Brea blinked sleepy eyes and gave Gred a pat. Brea finally took in her room. It was very simple the only furnishings were the bed, dresser and a mirror, a very small bathroom in the corner. She walked over to the mirror and saw her light blond hair was a massive tangle of knots, her face streaked with traces of floo powder and tears, her sweater and dress dirty and crumpled but otherwise she looked the same as she remembered.

“I guess we’re really here Gred. It wasn’t a dream. Well first things first. I need to get cleaned up. It’s no wonder Regulus was reluctant to be seen in public with me. I look absolutely frightful.” Brea grumbled to herself and compnion. After a quick dig for her pajamas she took a long shower. She didn’t have any shampoo or soap so she had to do with just water and once she was dressed she realized she didn’t have a brush either. “Well that’s just fantastic” she said in an irritable tone. Brea did however have a ribbon so she made do with braiding it the best she could and made the note to try and buy some necessities. Afterwards she emptied her bag and took inventory of what she did have which thankfully were all of the school supplies-

“What if they don’t let me go to Hogwarts! It’s the only… I just have to go to!” Brea cried to Gred. He gave a squeak from her cauldron. “You’re right Gred. I have to try and if not I suppose I’ll just have to speak with Dumbledore. From what-“she hesitated and swallowed thickly blinking back tears “The…others told me, he was a right good fellow and he is sure to understand.” After coming to this conclusion with some idea of a plan Brea repacked all of the only possessions she had in the world carefully, and laid back down under the blankets this time petting Gred as he snuggled close, and despite being very hungry Brea drifted off to once again dreamless sleep.

\--The next time Brea woke the sun was just rising. Since she was naturally an early riser, Brea was somewhat ready for her second day in the year 1972 to begin. As she dressed in a pair of dark jeans, a t-shirt printed with the Irish Quidditch team logo on the front she made a mental note to pay attention to what the witches and wizards wore in this decade, in an attempt to blend in more. Since she had never been clothes shopping, school robes not counting as they are all the same, since her clothing had either been made by Martha, Hermione would bring her something every year, or the occasional present from Harry and Ron. She just wasn’t entirely sure if blue jeans and leather boots were the norm here.

It frustrated how little she really knew, and made her a little bit angry that she had been so sheltered. “Honestly who does this to an eleven year old girl? Let’s her spend the first eleven years reading nothing but fairytales and running around with animals instead of teaching her a spot of history!” Beyond upset now, she made the mental note to get ahold of some history books as soon as possible. As she was digging in her bag to be sure of where Harrys vault key her stomached protested hungrily.

“Ok Gred let’s get some breakfast, find this Gringotts Bank, buy a few items to get me to Hogwarts, and if we have time find a library.” Gred squeaked back and after a quick survey to make sure she had all her worldly possessions securely in her bag, the two made their way down to a fast breakfast, and directions from Tom on where to find the bank. Unfortunately he didn’t know where a muggle library could be found. “Guess I’ll be exploring later on…” Brea muttered as the sky began to drizzle slightly.

She walked down the alley until she found the tall intimidating bank and a knot of apprehension filled her when she saw the just as intimidating goblins. Each looked eternally angry and judgmental.  
“I can do this, I can do this…”she whispered to herself as she slowly walked to the furthest counter, the goblin that asked for her key gave her a bit of an odd look when he saw it was to the Potter vault but allowed her to go. It was quite the ride and she really wanted to go again but had the suspicion that her goblin escort would frown at the request. Brea wasn’t entirely sure what could be considered wealthy but it looked like the Potter family had quite the coin to spare. She only took what she thought would last her through the year and left the bank as quickly as possible. A ting of guilt clouded within her.  
“This isn’t stealing Gred its survival.” She reasoned with herself more than for Gred but for her own moral benefit. After a quick search of the shops Brea had a few more sets of clothes that looked witch appropriate and decade appropriate, her toiletries, and more hair ribbons. She stood for a long moment in front of the building that would someday be the wonderful world of Weasley Wizard Wheezes. “It feels wrong being here Gred.” She whispered.

Brea finally turned to make her way toward the leaky cauldron when a fantastic old building nearly directly across from the WWW, caught her distracted attention. “I don’t remember you being there…” she said thoughtfully.

By now the time was near lunch and Brea’s stomach let her know it so she shook her head and left the old building behind. After having Toms cook make her a quick sandwich Brea left to find a muggle library. If Brea thought Diagon Alley was crowded and busy she was wowed by all the people on the streets of London, her first visit to any city at all and she was a bit overwhelmed. She attempted asking several muggles on where to find a library, most just passed her by with barely a glance.

After giving up asking for directions from the busy muggles, she wondered around without direction, taking street turns at random, nearly being ran over by a taxi car, she eventually found not a library but a used book store. There were many, many books covered in dust and an old man, leaned back behind the counter in a chair snoozing, not even waking for the bell above the door. Brea spent a good amount of time in there gathering material, books on muggle history, books on time travel and physics, and she slipped quite a few books just for pleasure, this Jane Austen lady sounded sensational.

Unsure on how much the books were worth she left a couple of galleons on the counter, the old man still snoring and left. The day was quite late and Brea began to panic since she was now completely lost. Breaking into a run she attempted to retrace her path taking turns which felt familiar and determined not to give up. However the sun did go down and Brea was still no closer to finding the way back to the Leaky Cauldron, and her warm room with its hard bed.

A quick trip to a corner store to use their lavatory and the looks she got when she tried to buy a sandwich in a package with her wizarding coin, could have been comical if Brea understood the reasons behind them. The skinny teenager took galleon most likely because he just couldn’t be bothered with telling off a little girl who already looked as if she hadn’t had enough to eat in the last few days.  
That night Brea ended up in a small park on a bench huddled in her cloak from Hermione. The night got quite cold for Brea and she hardly got any sleep at that. One she was cold and two she was almost terrified out of her mind. It’s one thing to be alone and have a safe place to sleep but a whole other experience to attempt sleep alone and out in the open in a very large city, and Brea was very very alone in a very large city.

She had never been afraid of the dark and often relished in the peace and slowness it brought after a busy day pulling weeds, but this was one night little Brea was deeply afraid of. Every sound and voice jerked her into alertness and she kept her wand tightly in her hand. “Not sure what I’ll do with you but ill attempt something,” she whispered to her hopefully trusty wand. One of the other things that frightened Brea was the lack of stars. She couldn’t see a single one. The bright glow of the city blocked them out and Brea did miss them.

Eventually the night gave way to morning and an exhausted Brea started her journey once again, she knew she desperately needed to find either the Leaky Cauldron or Kings Crossing. Brea saw many wonderful sights and buildings and statues as she walked the busy as ever streets. She even saw a large crowd of people making a fuss over a large blue box which said “Police” at the top with a suave older man in a velvet looking evening jacket standing before it.

“How curious.” Brea muttered then continued her doomed search. This night Brea ended up staying under a small bridge covered in vines and moss. She blinked back miserable tears at how helpless she was feeling, and began to let anger fill her again, at herself and at others who were supposed to protect her. How she could have been so stupid to think she could handle a quick trip into the city to find a library. She was angry at all the people who had ignored her pleas for simple directions. And now here she was beyond tired, filthy once again, her hair still hadn’t had a proper wash, huddled in mud, endlessly hungry, she hadn’t had a drink of water in ages, and the effects were beginning to wear on her, and now it was raining once more.

For Brea she once again had little sleep and when the rain finally let up in the early morning she used a mildly clean looking puddle to clean up as best she could then she began to show more force when asking the early morning Londoners on how to get to Kings Cross. Brea walked over to a man who had dark brown skin and silver in his black hair. He was standing in line at a telephone booth and he ignored her when she asked if he could please tell her how to get to Kings Cross. He shook his head when she tried to plead with him that it was so very important that she not miss her train.  
Brea was almost in frustrated tears when from behind her she heard the most wonderful words ever.

“We are going to Kings Cross. In fact it’s just two blocks over.” Brea spun around and there stood a kind looking middle aged man and woman with a boy her own age. The boy looked identical to his father, both with lightly tan skin, unruly blond hair and almost black eyes. The woman was a bit round and had light brown hair and matching brown eyes. Brea didn’t hesitate she just rushed to them.  
“Thank you so much! You have very well saved me!” The utter relief Brea felt could not be expressed and nothing could bother her now. The small family made their introductions and she learned they were Irish but had lived in London all their lives and she happily walked alongside Torrin Cuinn as they followed his parents.

Brea thought him a lively fellow as he told her about the different cars they saw on the way to Kings Cross. She was grateful that the small family had mentioned her being alone and she was surprised when she learned that they were going to platform 9 ¾. Her amazement when Torrin, after a heartfelt goodbye to his parents, ran his cart through a brick wall, left her giddy.  
“Well your turn now Brea, off you go.” Mrs. Cuinn said.

“I must thank you again. You have truly helped me when I had almost lost hope of ever finding this place. In repayment I’ll keep an eye on Torrin for you.” Mr. Cuinn chuckled and they ushered her on. Since Brea didn’t know how fast she should run, she ran at the barrier as fast as she could, she ran right through but she had her eyes closed in fear and ended up tripping over something and falling to the ground.

She laid there a moment taking a quick inventory of herself for injury.

“Do you need help?” Brea felt her face go red in mortification that someone had seen her fall so. She peeked up through her messy hair and saw a kind boy holding his hand out. He was very thin, hooded blue eyes and sandy brown hair. Before she could answer or take his hand she heard her name called in the distance. “Fox!” Brea recognized the voice and sat up her eyes searching the crowd of kids of all ages and their families.

“Black!!” Brea shouted back when she saw Regulus coming towards her, dressed in all black and a grin on his face. The other boy stepped to the side as Brea took Regulus hand and he helped her stand.

“Can’t you do anything without tripping?” He teased as Brea brushed herself off.

Brea grinned and bowed. “Well you know I enjoy making an entrance.”

“Come on lets go get a compartment. Sirius is sitting with his friends.” Brea nodded and turned to the boy who had tried to help her.

“Thank you for the concern!” she waved as Regulus took her arm and pulled her to train and the boy smiled and shrugged. Brea laughed freely as she and Regulus ran, dodging people and carts and cages of owls, they ran through the steam. Regulus pulled her up the steps and still running down the train corridor searching compartments until they found one still empty.

Each collapsed onto opposite seats, they were both laughing and gasping for some air and Brea realized it had been days since she laughed this much. By the time they settled down to grins the Hogwarts Express began to pull away from the station and Brea leaned on the window to watch as parents waved their children off for the year and she could feel Regulus eyes on her. He saw how disheveled her appearance was. Her blond hair didn’t look too terribly dirty but it did looked very tangled even in its long braid, her bright blue sweater had a sad dingy look to it, mud splattered her jeans and boots. Regulus noticed her cheeks were sunken, dark circles under her eyes.

“Brea what happened to you?” he asked quietly. Her cheeks turned rosy and she turned bright eyes to him

“Just me being foolish and believing I can take on the world,” she replied with a shrug. “How about you? I worried about you and your mum.”

“It’s nothing. She was actually ill herself and I haven’t seen her since the day before we met.”

“I see. Well I’m very happy you didn’t have to lie to your mum on my behalf and I’m sad she was unable to see you off.” He shrugged and the two drifted into a bout of silence. The rocking of the train lulled Brea into a deep dreamless sleep. Regulus propped her feet up on the opposite seat and slumped down to flip through a Quidditch news magazine. Brea didn’t wake for anything, not the trolley lady stopping by nor Sirius poking his head in, he left after Regulus shushed him.

When the time came to change into robes he shook Brea awake and laughed at the bit of drool she rushed to wipe away. They took turns changing into their robes and he watched in amusement as she tried to brush her hair and he picked no less than three twigs out of the tangled mess. Giving up she used a ribbon to tie it into a bun and then had her nose pressed to the glass when Hogwarts came into view.

“Oh Regulus…isn’t it grand? It’s the most wonderful place I’ve ever seen.” Finally the time came to debark the train and Brea whispered “Must be Hagrid…” when she saw the legendary bushy haired half giant calling for the first years. Regulus heard and gave her a look. “Come along Black!” And this time Brea had Regulus by the arm and pulled him through the crowd yelling “Watch it!” when someone stepped onto her toes. She pulled him to an empty boat and the two settled side by side on the seat. “Regulus I quite like being on a boat!” Brea said leaning over the side. She was beginning to tip the boat so Regulus yanked her down beside him and he snapped

“Sit still or we’ll be good and tipped!”

“So? A swim sounds fun!” Brea snapped back.

“Well as much as you need one I really don’t fancy a dip with the giant squid!” at this Brea’s eyes lit up.

“Really there’s a giant squid?” she said excitedly. Regulus rolled his eyes and told her she was driving him mad. With a huff she dropped the subject and enjoyed the rest of the boat ride over the Black Lake. Finally they were standing and listening to Professor McGonagall tell them about the sorting. Brea loved how truly fearsome the professor looked. She was everything Harry had said and more and Brea loved her pointy hat.

“Think I’m going to get me a hat like that.” She leaned over to Regulus and whispered. He snickered and McGonagall cleared her throat and stared at them, effectively hushing them. Next came the sorting and as Brea and Regulus walked with the other first years into the great hall Brea couldn’t help the spin of delight as she took in the enchanted celling. Her eyes wide trying to take it all in. Regulus gripped her hand to keep her from spinning more and nodded his head to the podium. Before it sat a stool and upon it a mangy old hat.

She didn’t care which house she was in only Brea began to fear again that her name wouldn’t be called at all and looked up at Regulus with a touch of apprehension. He squeezed her hand and she held on.  
When his name was called Brea forced herself to let him go, yet watched nervously. She already knew he would be in Slytherin but she watched anyways as McGonagall sat the hat on his head.

\--Regulus slowly walked to the front and sat down upon the stool. A quick scan of the hall he could see his brother watching from the Gryffindor table, a sad expression on his face, and at the Slytherin table his older cousin Narcissa watching without expression, and finally he locked onto Brea’s bright eyes from the crowd.

When the sorting hat was sat upon his head he immediately felt the intrusion and heard the voice speak in his mind, “Ah another young mind from the great house of Black, hmm yes great intelligence and your bravery does you great credit! You would be a good fit for Gryffindor like your brother.” Regulus began to panic at the thought of his families’ disappointment.

“Please.” He whispered, “You must put me in Slytherin.”

“Yes I see. Underneath that bravery is a fierce and destructive need to please your family. The need to be the son they want. Fine young Black, Slytherin it is.” And with that the sorting hat shouted “Slytherin!” for all the hall to hear. His new house mates cheered as he joined them, and he kept his silver eyes on Brea as she stood in the crowd looking alone again. He didn’t really pay much attention to the next few names and only halfheartedly clapped when his own table mates cheered. He waited with dread for Brea’s name to be called. He secretly wanted her in the same house as him yet he knew deep down that despite not knowing her blood status she was not Slytherin material.

\--When the professor began to call out names beginning with ‘F’ Brea closed her eyes. A girl Named Sarah Finlay was called forth and sorted into Hufflepuff.  
There was a slight hesitation between the next name and McGonagall subtly glanced at Dumbledore, and then she called out the name Brea Fox. Brea popped open her eyes in surprise and she slowly walked to the front, being watched closely. She gave a nervous smile to McGonagall and took her seat, and then the sorting hat was sat upon her head.

“You are most unusual indeed! I had heard mere whispers about your existence and why you are here. I expect many great things from you! With a mission such as yours the only place you can truly make a difference. A healthy lesson in bravery.” Before Brea could even get used to the voice in her head nor think about what he had said the sorting hat shouted “Gryffindor!”

Brea walked quickly towards the table Gryffindors cheering her on and Sirius calling her name. Relief made her feel light headed and dazed. She had a home for the next few months. Something to do with herself other than think of her real home.

“Fox! Get over here!” he waved her over. She took the seat beside him and was facing the Slytherin table. She gave Regulus a little wave. “I was really hoping he would be able to break the cycle again.” Sirius said sadly.

Brea nodded but said “It’s for the best.”

Finally the sorting was done. The boy Torrin whom she had met earlier was sorted into Gryffindor much to Brea’s delight and once the food appeared on the table Brea didn’t hesitate to jump in. She hadn’t had a decent meal in days and dug in making quite the scene.

“Oi Black who’s your friend?” Brea took a look beside him and saw three other boys watching the exchange. One was slightly rounded but had an air of innocence about him, one was pale, sandy haired, and haunted eyed, and the last caused Brea to freeze. He had a head of messy black hair and round glasses. Brea couldn’t help herself, she reached across Sirius and pushed the boy’s hair back off his forehead.

“Uh Sirius what’s she doing?” he asked

“Not a worldly idea James.” Brea gasped and jumped back as she realized who she was talking to. A rushing sound filled her ears and Brea began to feel faint. A girl’s voice cut through the boys chatter as Sirius was telling them of how off her rocker she acted the day he met her

“Ignore them. Bunch of toe rags is what they are!” Brea looked up from her plate that she had been trying to concentrate on and leaning over close to her was a red hair girl with green eyes. Eyes that she knew so well.

“Please…”she whispered, tears coming to her eyes. Reality setting in. The girl she knew to be Lily wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and she snapped at the future marauders

“You lot ought to be ashamed of yourselves!”

“It’s ok Lily…they didn’t mean me any harm.” At that time the older prefects began to call for the first years to gather and Brea stood leaving the five second years in silence. As she followed the Gryffindor prefects she was in a daze, no longer excited and relieved about getting to come to Hogwarts, and she didn’t even notice when Torrin stepped up beside her.

“Happy to see you made it here in all one piece!” he said cheerfully. She looked at him

“Oh yes thank you. I didn’t have the chance earlier” she said softly and lapsed back into silence as they marched up staircase after staircase. There was something said about moving staircases yet Brea didn’t really pay attention. She was keeping herself from thinking of anything at all for the moment. Once the group reached the portrait with a very plump lady on it and learned the password was “Turnip soup” everyone was shown inside. The common room was meant to be warm and beautiful but for Brea all she saw was black and white. As soon as the girl prefect in fifth year told them where their dorm was Brea broke away and dashed up the stairs.

She picked the bed over next to the window. The thought of sleeping next to an escape was quite comforting to this panicked little witch. Without pausing she took her bag off her shoulder, set Gred on her pillow, grabbed her pajamas, and everything she would need to get clean, and then rushed to the bathroom. Throwing her dirty clothes and robes off her body she got in the shower turning the water on as hot as she could stand, instead of standing she slid down the shower wall until she was sitting under the hot stream of water gasping trying to calm herself.

“Ok…. so apparently I have actually been sent back some thirty eight years. I am at Hogwarts thirty eight years before I’m supposed to be and house mates with the parents of my dear friend, Harry Potter whom are going to remind me of him continually. I’ve been sent back thirty-eight years to watch them suffer and fight in a war and eventually die leaving him an orphan like me. I’ve been sent back thirty-eight years to watch Peter Pettigrew betray his friends and Sirius to be sent to Azkaban leaving Remus Lupin alone with his cruse until he too dies in the next war leaving his own little baby son an orphan. I’ve been sent back thirty eight years to watch….to watch Severus Snape torture himself for causing the death of the woman he loved. I’ve…I’ve been sent…back thirty eight years to watch Regulus Black be torn from his brother, fall in love with the dark arts, and then sacrifice himself in an attempt to destroy Voldemort. Hermione kept apart from her true love, to watch Fred crushed…” Brea rambled out her tirade.

Each new face flashing through her mind before finally picturing her crystal ball and the words it spoke to her. She didn’t understand even half of it but she knew one thing. She clenched her hands into tight fists and stood in the shower again. “I’ll not allow it. This will end and I'll protect them all.” Brea said with gritted teeth.

“You alright in there!?” a light voice called from beyond the door, startling a newly standing Brea to the point where she slipped on the slick shower floor.

“Ooof! Yes thank you! I’ll be out in a moment!” Brea cried back rubbing her offended bum she stood more slowly and then scrubbed her hair and body thoroughly. At last she was dressed warmly, with brushed and braided hair, clean teeth. She was more than ready for her first night of complete rest deciding to think up a plan tomorrow.

Back in the dorm there was one other girl in there. “Sorry if I took too long.” The girl simply shrugged one shoulder and went back to what she was doing and the other walked over to her. She was a tall girl with beautiful golden hair that fell over her shoulders in wide curls, and big bright blue eyes tilted like a cats. Even at eleven Brea could tell this girl would someday be impossibly beautiful. “I greatly appreciate your concern.” Brea smiled and held out her hand, “My name is Brea, Brea Fox. And you are?”

“My name is Anastasiya Euna.” She smiled back and shook Brea’s hand.

“Fantastic to meet you Anastasiya-“

“Oh just call me Stacy”

“Stacy then. I hope you don’t mind if I cut this short but I’m very nearly asleep on my feet-“

“Sure! See you in the morning.” And Anastasiya took her turn in the bathroom while Brea stumbled over to her new bed exhausted.

From her bed she could finally see the stars. Her life was no longer the one she thought she had. It was changing uncontrollably. But the stars were constant and gazing at them kept her on Earth for a moment. At last with Gred humming by her ear and the stars watching over she drifted to sleep wondering how Regulus was doing down in the dungeons. She hope it was as warm as her tower.

\--After Brea had been sorted into Gryffindor he watched her sit next to his brother both of them looking at him. He figured that was the end of that friendship since Gryffindors and Slytherins did not mix…at least not by choice. He was no longer paying attention to the sorting nor the headmasters’ speech. He simply sat still and ate his dinner. After a while he picked up on commotion at the Gryffindor table and watched the events of Brea pushing a bloke with black hair and glasses hair off his forehead.

His hand clenched around his fork at the heartbroken look on her face and the misery in her eyes when the girl with red hair yelled at some of the boys his brother included. “You’re staring is liable to get you noticed” said a voice beside him. He turned to a boy beside him most likely in his own year. His hair was a plain brown and his eyes were a much darker brown color. Regulus recognized him as Anthony Warwick. His father and Warwick’s often did business together. He didn’t mind the other wizard and he could possibly be a good friend, they just never saw each other often enough for that to happen. He saw the warning look in Warwick’s eyes and sighed. “I know. Just...never mind, the prefects are calling.” he stood and Warwick followed with a shrug.

He liked Regulus well enough but he knew their families. They would not take well to another Black showing Gryffindor interest.

Once down in the dungeons Regulus shivered at the cold but found the glow from the black lake through the windows fascinating. In the dorm Regulus stood with Warwick and four other boys and he gave the others an arrogant look and stepped up to the bed he fancied the most. One by the window, soft green light filtering in.


	6. Snap Back to Reality

Despite the recent lack of sleep Brea was still able to wake up before either of her two dorm mates. Natural early bird and all that. Feeling clean and refreshed for the first time in days she quickly dressed in her uniform and robes, hair tied up, Gred in her pocket and school bag slung over her shoulder, she marched from her dorm room, prepared to take Hogwarts by storm.

Seeing no one in the common room, she went out the portrait hole and down the stairs hoping she was going the right way. A few students in Ravenclaw uniforms eventually came into sight so she opted to follow them and sure enough they led her to the Great Hall. Very few other students were in the hall when she arrived so Brea sat near the end closest to the professors table, heaped fried potatoes, eggs, and bacon on her plate and poured a glass of milk. As she ate with her left hand she wrote with her right a list of things she would need to accomplish in order to do what she now knew she was here to do.

1> Research basilisks  
2> Learn Parseltoung  
3> Practice defense spells  
4> Keep marauders from torturing Snape  
5> Teach Peter Pettigrew courage  
6> Find the 5 current horcruxes  
7> Kill Voldemort  
8> Save everyone

“And what are you doing up and about so early Fox?” Sirius asked as he sat beside her. Brea quickly folded her parchment and shoved it back in her bag. Brea couldn’t resist a smirk as she tapped her nose. He laughed and began to pile his plate high with food before he grew serious. Brea now saw that James, Peter, and Remus were sitting around her and Sirius with wide curiosity and suspicion on their young faces.

“How about telling us how you know Lily’s name?” James asked. Brea immediately realized she had made a mistake the night before, revealing something she shouldn’t have. Clever enough for eleven to know the first rule of her mission was to reveal nothing to anyone. Ever.

And clever witch that Brea was determined to be she knew simply denying such knowledge or cloudy excuses would never work on the soon to be dubbed Marauders. In order to fool a Marauder she suspected one would need to think like one. And what would a Marauder do in this situation? Mysterious honesty.

Brea looked around as if to check if anyone was spying before waving them closer and the four boys leaned in breaths held. She met each pair of eyes before grinning wickedly and flicked each on the nose

“You don’t need to know.”

A chorus of yelps followed and the four young wizards had a bit of grudging respect for their fellow housemate. She sat back and laughed as they scowled at her before they turned to their own breakfast. By now Torrin had seated on one side of her and Stacy seated herself gracefully across the table, pointedly ignoring Sirius when he attempted to introduce himself.

“Torrin this is Anastasiya whom likes to be called Stacy for short. Stacy this is Torrin. Yesterday his family came to my desperate rescue.” Torrin blushed at this and Stacy greeted him.

“Where are you from Stacy?” Torrin asked “I don’t recognize your accent.”

Brea not even realizing that one could have an accent based on where they were from was fascinated.

“I spent my first years moving between here and Russia. The last couple of years have been spent here so my accent is evening out a bit I guess.” The two continued to chat and Brea caught sight of Regulus facing her over Sirius shoulder.

He caught her eye and mouthed “Are you alright?” to her. She nodded and sent him a smile, hoping he believed her. A moment later she then noticed the boy beside him watching the exchange with disapproval. This caused Brea to duck her head down to eat until McGonagall slipped her a class time table. A discussion of everyone’s class schedule followed until everyone stood to leave. When Brea heard her name called from the professors table, she saw Dumbledore waving her over. She took a nervous glance around and guessed that he really meant her. “He couldn’t possibly know…” she muttered. Leaving her new friends to go to class, she made her way to the Headmaster. "Y-yes professor?"

"I trust you are settled in the Gryffindor tower alright?"

"Why yes sir. I picked the best bed in the dorm. Right by the window."

Dumbledore smiled "I always had to have the bed by the window too. And have you made friends yet?"

"Yes sir indeed. That is I think we are friends. I met Regulus and Sirius Black several days ago and even rode on the train with Regulus then Sirius introduced his friends then I met Lily and Torrin I met him at the train and Anastasiya is an awfully nice girl in my room." Brea rambled on, a blush coloring her cheeks rosy.

"I am very pleased you are making many wonderful friends and I hope in time you come to think of me as a friend. I trust that when you are ready you will make a difference." he finished mysteriously yet smiling kindly. Brea gave her own secret smile and tapped her little nose.

Dumbledore chuckled. "Off you go now or you'll be late for potions. Slughorn thrives on first impressions. I suspect you have something up your sleeve to achieve just that."

Brea realized that she did indeed. With a thoughtful grin she did her little curtsy and she ran off. Most the students had left the hall by then, forcing Brea to ask directions to the dungeons from a prefect and quickly made her way down. When she at last found the classroom Brea slipped through the door made it within moments of being called late.

A quick scan of the room showed only two seats open, one at the front of the classroom however Brea really didn't fancy the thought of sitting in the very front, the less attention from everyone was her first instinct. The second vacant seat was located in a much more appealing location near the back. And to her delight it had Regulus and the disapprovingly serious looking boy beside him. Brea smiled brightly and started to sit at their table. Regulus eyes widened in shock when he realized the foolish act Brea was about to commit and he subtly shook his head, eyes pleading. Brea’s smile faded and her cheeks flushed.  
'How stupid of me,' she thought. 'I'm a Gryffindor now and no idea what my blood status is. Second mistake in as many days. Off to a perfect start.' She gritted her teeth and swiftly sat beside a girl in the first table and Brea remembered her from the night before. She was a plain freckled girl with brown hair and hazel eyes. Dressed in a cloak with the Gryffindor crest her supplies were neat and orderly. Still in her snit of anger at Regulus, Brea roughly set her potions book on the table along with her quill ink and parchment.

"My name is Brea Fox, pleased to make your acquaintance," she said in an angry tone.

"Rose Piper." The girl said quietly. Brea nodded and kept her eyes on Professor Slughorn as he began his first lecture of the year. He covered the course syllabus and classroom rules before asking round on various items used commonly in potions. When he mentioned the twelve uses for dragons blood Brea couldn't help herself. With Dumbledore’s worldly advice from earlier in mind, her hand few into the air surprising Slughorn midsentence.

"Err yes miss…?"

"Fox professor." Brea gave her most mature imitation of Hermione she could muster, hands folded and chin tilted high.

"Yes, yes. Did you have a question Miss Fox?"

"Actually sir there are thirteen uses of Dragons Blood. It makes a spectacular wand polish." She said matter-of-factly. Slughorn didn't say anything for a moment as he worked through his shock. Not sure how to respond so he simply nodded and stuttered out a "right then." And continued with the introduction. Brea didn't raise her hand anymore, suspecting that she had indeed made an impression, only unsure if it had been good or bad. Forcing herself to not worry about the occasional glances the potions master would send her, and ignoring the stares and whispers from her surrounding classmates.

The rest of Brea’s very first class was spent diligently taking notes, and writing her homework assignment in the journal Hermione had given her, much to Harry and Ron's dismay. Supposedly it reminds you verbally of homework due.

“Sounds useful to me,” she muttered under her breath. Rose glanced at her as the two packed up their supplies.

"What is?" Rose asked of the unusual journal.

"A homework journal. It reminds you of homework."

"Brilliantly useful!" Rose lightly admired Brea’s gift. Brea smiled at her fellow housemate, suspecting she had a sturdy study partner. As she followed Rose from the classroom Brea narrowed her eyes as she watched Regulus attempting to hurry ahead of the rest. Her initial intent was to grab Regulus and give him a piece of her mind. However the boy he sat with caught her glare over his shoulder, he didn't say anything to her naturally, only shook his head with a dark frown.

Stacy walked up at that moment and with a roll of her eyes she quickly assessed the situation. Picking up on the Slytherins prejudice stare and Brea’s equally evil eye.

"All right lets go," and she pulled Brea away. “Slytherins and Gryffindors aren’t meant to be mixing.”

'Who does he think he is?' Brea thought. 'Honestly!' But she went with Stacy, skipping to catch up with Rose.  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

\--That evening after dinner Brea sat with her homework list and the save everyone list on her bed, Gred perched on her knee. Right now both lists looked rather impossible. "Well Gred before I can do one I have to do the other." All thoughts of fun and exploring the castle were forgotten. “Well… momentarily on hold. I can’t very well give up my chance to find all of the castle’s secrets. And let’s be honest here Gred. I have some time. Voldemort’s not going anywhere for quite some time yet.”

Brea was after all raised in part by a witch dedicated to learning all she could and worked to instill the same studious principles in her young charge. And in part by a couple of wizards who enjoyed a good game of wizards’ chest over studying. However Brea had never been in the social setting of juggling both studies and friendships. Pulled away from her new friends and throwing herself into her studies seemed the easiest way to start her school career.

During class she sat at the front, usually with Rose and continually raised her hand for each question. A dark lick of satisfaction soothed her confidence when she worked herself to the top of the class quickly. The little fact that she had taken the coveted spot among the intelligent elite of this year’s Hogwarts first years from its rightful owner never crossed her mind.

Brea enjoyed sitting in the Great Hall with her three new friends for meals. Each were uniquely delightful and taught Brea the ways of friendship. Rose was a very quiet girl and really only spoke when spoken to, unless she had a question burning for an answer. She blushed a rosy color whenever Torrin would speak to her which Brea adored. Torrin was always laughing and making a joke or had a funny story. Anastasiya was friendly and warm with the three of them but within a moment she could turn into someone cold and calculating.

Though Brea didn’t spend much time with them at first, she considered them her best friends. Somehow they understood she needed her space and they didn’t mind that she filled it with studies as she never hesitated to help them with their own.

Young Brea remained friendly with the four Marauders, even when Sirius and James tried to prank her for it by putting spiders in her bag. Not very clever of them. Brea retaliated by giving them the bat-boogey hex, ever grateful for Ginny’s advice. The two didn’t try again but Brea loved to listen as they often replayed their pranks on others.

Occasionally an older Slytherin would try to torment her, usually with Regulus looking at the ground silently and his friend she learned as Anthony Warwick, holding his arm pulling him away as a third year tried to cruse her. However the next morning when the owls arrived each of the Slytherin boys involved received a nicely wrapped ton-tongue toffee.

‘Stupid boys didn’t even stop to find it curious…’ Brea thought as she watched them each eat the trick candy. She didn’t laugh with the rest of the hall as their tongues began to swell and they tripped and stumbled out of the Hall trying to hide their grotesque looking tongues. The Marauders were discussing excitedly how brilliant of a prank it was, Torrin and Stacy were each laughing loudly and Rose was quietly giggling.

Regulus and Anthony were both watching her however. Regulus with a wink and Anthony with exasperation mixed with a bit of smile.

On the days of the full moon Brea always made sure to hand Remus some chocolate much to his curiosity. She knew his appreciation of chocolate and he would need it. He was the only other student here who was almost as alone as she was. It wouldn’t be long before that changed though. Soon James, Peter, and Sirius would learn his secret and start on their journey to become animagi. Brea had considered learning it for herself but she knew it took a long time and really she had enough to accomplish right now.

Often Brea would come upon Lily Evans and Severus Snape studying in the Library. She made sure to be polite to both and often gave Severus a compliment such as Slughorn using his potion as an example and how brilliant it was. This gave great surprise to him and Lily always looked proud when she did this. Brea knew this wouldn’t be enough to keep Severus away from the dark arts however. Even Lily wasn’t able to accomplish that. The thought of righteous power was a very powerful pull and when you are surrounded by others constantly urging you to partake, feeling the dark need to be accepted…Brea knew this was going to happen to both Severus and Regulus.

A new found pleasure for Brea was learning to fly on a broom. Flying was even better than she could have imagined. The wind rushing through her hair… a white dove in flight she would imagine herself to be. She had had no trouble giving her first command to the practice broom, quietly thanking Harry for the book he had given her, which she had read several times over by now. She was quite good and Madam Hooch said she had quick instinctive flying skills fit for a Quidditch chaser someday. Brea thanked her flying instructor politely but she had no aspirations to be a Quidditch star. She had never had any dreams for her future, always content with the life the farm offered, and then she was thrown this new life where she had a crazy insane task of rewriting history. Anything she could want for herself was now put on hold.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

\--The first Saturday in December had Brea sitting straight up in her bed. She knew that familiar feeling in the air  
of something fresh and wonderful. Pressing her nose against the cold frosty glass of her window, Brea was unable to hold back her squeal of delight, waking Rose and Stacy.

“Brea you know the rules. You can wake as early as you want just leave us asleep…” Stacy grumbled as she snuggled back into her covers deeply.

“Sorry ladies,” Brea whispered before she scrambled out of bed and into her jeans, t-shirt, blue sweater, boots, and cloak. After a rush job on her teeth, leaving her hair down and she was out of the dorm, out of the tower and outside the castle in record time. She stopped in the courtyard and took in the sight of winter’s first snowfall.

“At last…winters here…” she whispered. She slowly spun taking it all in. “It’s brilliant…absolutely brilliant.” Brea spent the entire day outside. She missed breakfast, lunch and dinner yet she didn’t mind. While she loved the smell of spring, the sunlight of summer, and the colorful leaves of autumn, she only truly felt at home with winter in the air. So instead of staying inside she spent her day with something familiar, something that never changes whether the year is 1972 or 2010. She spent the first day of winter snow making snow angels and snow people. Throwing snow balls in the air and charming them to explode, sending a small shower of snowflakes onto her red cheeks and dark lashes as she spun in their fall. She didn’t notice the stares of the other students.

James muttered to Sirius, Peter, and Remus “That girl is a bit of a nutter…” Peter and Sirius laughed, and Remus rolled his eyes and ushered them along. They were going to discuss Remus’ furry little curse which they had discovered during the latest full moon, in a more secure location.

Torrin, Rose, and Stacy stayed inside not fancying the cold one bit. Regulus and Anthony were on their way to the Quidditch pitch to watch the Slytherin team practice when Regulus stopped to watch her. She looked happier than he could remember since he met the odd witch, as he watched her frolic in the snow.

“Black we’re going to be late.” Anthony grumbled and then he saw who Regulus was watching. “C’mon mate now’s not the time to moon over a Gryffindor.”

“I do not moon. I just get worried. She‘s alone you know. She shouldn’t be alone.”

“That’s rubbish. She’s not alone, she has a whole house full of idiot Gryffindors to keep her company if she wants it.”

Regulus sighed and dropped it. Warwick wasn’t a bad sort, he was just naturally concerned with appearances. The two continued on to the pitch. The seeker position was supposed to open next year and Regulus was very interested.

That night when Brea finally went inside it was well after dinner and curfew and she was starving. She had a general idea of where the kitchens were, based from George’s tales and she set off to find them.  
Brea had just rounded the corner towards the library when she saw two suspiciously huddled forms in front of the old wooden doors, whispering anxiously. She tiptoed silently and recognized Regulus and Warwick attempting to get inside the locked library.

“Might help if you pronounce the spell right.” She said in a whisper at Regulus ear. The two boys spun around in surprise. “Black, Warwick.” She greeted each.

“Brea...” Regulus nodded.

Brea stepped closer to them, looking up at their eyes in turn.

“I’m sure you two have a perfectly legitimate reason for needing into the library. Forgot your lucky quill perhaps Warwick? Before you attempt to lie to me let me tell you both one thing. I know what’s in that restricted section and who more than likely sent you into the night after curfew to break in and find them. You are both better than that and you know it.”

“Brea…do you know what will happen to us if we return empty handed?” Regulus asked quietly.

“Heart breakingly yes I do know.” She took a step forward till she was nose to nose with him and poked him in the chest and whispered harshly. “I know. Now here’s what we will do instead. You gentlemen are going to escort me to the kitchens, we will each enjoy a snack. And come up with a plan so you two don’t get tortured.” Warwick started to protest but Regulus interrupted him.

“Fine but only if you tell us how you knew the thirteenth use for dragon’s blood.” Brea grinned and held her hand out.

“Deal.” Regulus shook her hand and the three first years began the search for the kitchens. After a while and some dodging Filch, Brea saw the portrait with the fruit.

“This is it! She said in excitement. She ran up to it and the boys watched in skepticism as she tickled the pear. It giggled, turned into a handle which Brea turned and the portrait swung open to reveal the kitchens filled with house elves ever busy and at work, one walked up. “Shono at your service miss.”

Brea knelt down in front of the little elf, “Shono, do you think we could have a muffin each with some hot tea please? I’m afraid I was too busy enjoying the new snow to eat anything today.”

“Shono get right away! Sit sit!” And she scurried off. Regulus and Anthony both sat on the opposite side of the table from Brea, each looking at her expectantly.

“Alright I knew the thirteenth use because I once knew someone who worked with dragons in Romania. It wasn’t well know and I ought to have kept my voice to myself since it wasn’t my discovery to reveal but in my defense, I was quite angry at the time.” She said leveling a glare at the two boys. “Still am if I’m truthful.” Regulus sighed and picked at the muffin now in front of him.

“Brea you know we can’t be friends anymore, I think you know that.”

“No Black I don’t know that, and don’t give me house rivalry. It’s ludicrous and obnoxious. Lily and Severus manage to be friends still.”

“And Snape doesn’t have a pureblood family watching his every move does he now?” Regulus snapped back. “And why do you still even want to bother being friends with…with a Slytherin Fox! Don’t all you Gryffindors gossip about how we are all bad and evil?”

“Is that what you believe we think of you?” Brea said softly, her Hermione voice coming out. “Who we are is not tied to which house we are in. Even I’m clever enough to know that. There are brave Hufflepuffs, fiercely loyal Ravenclaws, selfish cowardly Gryffindors, and brave decent Slytherins. If you were truly evil you two would have never come down here. You would have hexed my mouth closed and stuffed me in a broom closet before going about your business. Now you two can tell your house cohorts that you two were caught in the restricted section and given detention but you did see that the book you were after was already gone. That ought to keep you out of the hospital wing this round.” Brea finished her speech before standing to leave. Before she did she turned back to the two stunned boys, “There is greater worth out there than gain and power. Something even the dark arts doesn’t stand up against. I’m going to find it and show you all. The first step is telling you that it is never too late to stand up for what you truly believe in. And you have someone who will always stand beside you when you do. Goodnight Regulus, Anthony.” And they sat in silence watching as her dark blue cloak swished out of the exit. It was the last time Regulus would speak to Brea until their fourth year.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

\--During winter break Brea of course stayed on at the castle. She wasn’t sure where she would be going once the school term ended for summer but for now she was fine not worrying about it. All of her friends including the Marauders went home for the holidays, so Brea used this solitude to finally find the Room of Requirement. And find it she did. It was everything she had hoped and was the perfect place to practice spells. In her opinion she was quite good for a first year and couldn’t wait until she could join the dueling club in fourth year.

Despite her happy discovery of one of Hogwarts amazing secrets, her first birthday and Christmas alone were miserable. She sat alone in her dorm looking at all the items she had left of her time. The hairpin from Charlie, the heirloom necklace from Martha, her trusty fishing pole from Ron. The photographs were still waiting to be put neatly in the albums but she just couldn’t bring herself to do the job. Instead she sat by her window, speaking softly to Gred of her favorite Christmas moments utterly alone.

Winter break ended quickly and the students came back full of holiday cheer and food, ready for the New Year. Classes resumed and Brea once again threw herself into her studies. She did allow herself the occasional break to enjoy a Quidditch game or sometimes she would use her collection of Weasley pranks to get back at a bully or two usually with the help of Torrin and Stacy.

First year passed quickly and near the end Professor Dumbledore called Brea up to his office. He offered her a lemon drop which she accepted along with a seat.

“Now Miss Fox I am to understand that you or an orphan.”

“Yes sir…I am.”

“And do you have somewhere to go once the school year is at an end?”

“No sir…I do not.” Brea said softly, eyes downcast.

“I see. Miss Fox I have here and orphanage inside of London. The mistress there is a kind squib. She mainly has muggle orphans in her patronage but has been known to take in the occasional witch and wizard. You must excuse me if I took a liberty but she has agreed to take you in no questions asked.”

Brea agreed thankfully, happy that she didn’t need to worry about sleeping under a bridge for three months. With that taken care of, the school year ended with Brea riding in a compartment with Torrin, Rose and Stacy and meeting Miss Harluff at the station.

Her room at the orphanage was very small, with just enough room for a small bed, dresser, and window. The walls were in dire need of painting, stained yellow with age, bare wood floors which looked drafty, but otherwise clean. There were only eight other children living there at Ivy Briar Orphanage, their ages ranging from as tiny as two to nearly grown fifteen, and from what Miss Harluff said, none of them were magical.

This caused Brea to stay away from them out of fear of putting them in danger. Fear of accidently causing them harm or to mistakenly bring them under the notice of Death Eaters. It wasn’t exactly logical but this is how Brea’s young mind worked. She had never been around children younger than her much less younger muggle children, and was very unsure of how to treat a child no bigger than a baby.

Since the orphanage was a small one Brea often ventured into the back yard to read. When the summer break had started she had begun reading up on all the muggle history books she had bought. She was astonished and horrified at how violent of a past muggles had. And all of it without the use of magic.

When the time came to prepare for the next year Stacy and her parents, a wizard and a muggle, picked her up from the orphanage and Brea had her first ride in a car. She loved it. “No wonder Torrin talks endlessly of these things!” Brea laughed to Stacy.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

\--Over the course of the next two years life had turned simple for Brea. Her old life slowly began to become buried in the never ending bottom of her bag. Sure she still had Gred as her constant companion in her pocket and sure she was still top of her class. Yet she slowly stopped going to the Room of Requirement to practice dueling and spent more time with Stacy, Rose and Torrin. They often ventured into the Forbidden Forest looking for trouble and just as often found it. By the end of third year they had been chased by an avalanche of bewitched pumpkins and another time attacked by a winged pig someone must have let loose in the forest.

Her second year James and Sirius both joined the Gryffindor Quidditch team, James as chaser and Sirius as a beater. This is also the year the witches took notice of how handsome three of the marauders were turning out and she usually gagged unladylike at them in good humor. She endlessly teased James for obsessing over Lily who so obviously despised him

“Someday Fox my girl you will fall in love and then you will understand my desperation for Lily to go out with me.” He said dramatically to Brea in the common room. This caused her to laugh loudly with the others and shoot a whiz bang at him singing his eyebrows. He didn’t find it as amusing as the others did.

Second year was also the year Regulus became the Slytherin seeker. She was quite proud of him and she attempted to approach him once to congratulate him but naturally Warwick intercepted her and harshly whispered in her ear that they were being watched. After this incident Brea successfully pushed Regulus from her mind and determined to live her life without worrying about the younger Black.

Birthdays and Christmas were stubbornly spent alone despite each year her friends attempting to convince Brea to stay with them at their home but she always kindly declined their offers. Her mission may be far off in her mind but she still remembered her family was an impossible distance from her and being around a truly happy family was something she just could not bear. Her friends would leave her alone in her castle but unlike her first year she would now receive many cards and well wishes.

Sometime during third year Brea developed a new friend in Guy Wickliff. He was a Hufflepuff in the same year as her and while he never made any special ripples, he was talkative and quite good at astronomy. One day when Brea had been attempting to put a book back in the library the shelf had been just out of her reach. When she stepped up on the lower shelves to get a better reach she slipped and stumbled back right into Guy Wickliff as he walked by.

“I’m so sorry!” she yelped as she tried to straighten him up.

He smiled and said, “No harm done. Not the first time I’ve been enlisted to help. Though the first time I wasn’t needed apparently.” At Brea’s confused look he laughed “You don’t remember! That’s alright I’m not offended.” Brea thought quickly and she finally remembered the boy at the Hogwarts Express her first year.

“Oh yes! I did mean to thank you properly. I’m not the most graceful I fear.” He laughed again and Brea noticed his features had not changed much. His hair was still neatly cut and sandy brown. Sea green eyes under thick eyebrows. He seemed quite tall but then again Brea wasn’t tall at all. He was nice looking and his smile was infectious. After that day he would sometimes walk her to her next class and sometimes study in the library with her. Often getting up to grab her a book she needed. Brea never put any thought into his attentions but others noticed.

Regulus may have put an unapproachable distance between himself and Brea (for her own protection he told himself) but that didn’t mean he didn’t keep an eye on her. He was sitting across the library with Anthony and Augusta Corrigan, a girl in Slytherin watching as some Hufflepuff bloke put the books Brea had been using away for her. He didn’t like the way the tosser laughed when Brea hit him in the arm or for carrying her bag for her as they left the library, Brea refusing to meet his gaze and he snapped his quill.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

\--September first of 1975 dawned a beautiful day. The kind of day that could only be expressed with poetry and flowers. Brea awoke with energy and excitement. Her fourth year at Hogwarts was just hours from beginning. This meant dueling club at last! There was also a chance she would be asked to join Slughorn Slug Club, and Torrin had managed to convince Brea she should try for a chaser position.

Over the summer a bored Brea took up running, since it got her out of the often depressing orphanage. Every morning Brea would wake and jog through the streets near her own for about thirty minutes and this morning was no different. She still had an hour before Torrin and his parents would be here to pick her up. It was sort of tradition now that she would shop with Stacy for their new school supplies and then go to Kings Cross with Torrin.

During her morning jog rather than thinking of defensive strategies and how to destroy the Horcruxes she was instead thinking of where she wanted to explore this next year, and if this would be the year when Rose and Torrin admitted they had feelings for each other. Her mind wandering lazily as she jogged she took a turn opposite of where she usually went. A commotion a little further down the street had Brea stopped in her tracks. There was Grimmould place and before it stood Regulus and Sirius Black both arguing.

Both Black boys were no longer boyish looking, with their cheekbones high and aristocratic, black unruly hair falling past their eyes. They were both taller than three months before and dressed in black pants. Only Sirius had on a muggle band t-shirt and Regulus was wearing an iron grey button shirt.

‘Golly he’s gotten tall,’ Brea thought before she picked up on the conversation.

“I’m telling you Reg I’m not going back. I turn sixteen next month and I’m moving in with the Potters at the end of the year. I only came for my belongings.”

“Sirius you can’t go-“

“I’m not going to listen to their rants about blood purity anymore Reg. I don’t believe in it and don-“

“Brea?” Regulus had seen Brea standing behind Sirius. Sirius turned as Regulus moved past him “Brea you shouldn’t be here-“

Brea held her hands up. “It’s ok. I didn’t mean to intrude. I live a few streets over apparently and was just out for a morning run, took a random turn, and now here I am. I’m so sorry you two, I didn’t mean to overhear.” Brea said while trying to calm her breathing from running and looking up into Regulus worried grey eyes.

“It’s ok. I’m sure you would have heard eventually as it is. Sirius is leaving, and I’m going to be left here alone.” Regulus said with a touch of anger. Brea stepped closer to him and set her hand on his arm.

“Have you considered leaving too?” she asked quietly. He scoffed.

“And go where? Of course I can find somewhere out here to live but what about the other nine months of the year? Do you have any idea what would happen if a pureblood Slytherin defected because of equal right beliefs?” he said lowly bending slightly so he was eye level with Brea.

And with a snap Brea was brought back to the real world. The world where danger was imminent for people she cared about. The world where only she knew how to stop it all. Shamed with how easy she pushed reality to the side, choosing Quidditch games and match making over taking action. With it all crashing back to her she pulled Regulus into a tight hug and whispered in his ear.

“Then you stay. You stay and you do whatever it takes to stay alive and well and when the time comes….I will help you escape.” She released him and with a last look took off the way she had come.  
Sirius stood to the side quietly while they had had the exchange and he recognized the look in his little brothers eye as he watched Brea’s white braid bounce on her back as she ran away. He had seen it in the way James watched Lilly when he thought no one was watching. A sort of pain and desperation mixed with a wish to never be apart.

“Somehow I think the mad girl from our balcony knows more then she will ever let on. And I think somehow she has a mad scheme to get this mess taken care of.” Sirius said quietly and Regulus looked at him.

“You go on to the Potters. You will do more good there and be safer. It’s best if I stay here.” Regulus said quietly. Sirius nodded and gripped his shoulder.

“When the Mad Fox is ready…you be ready too.”

“Sirius….I think we won’t have a choice. Mad Fox is a foolhardy Gryffindor afterall.” Sirius laughed and gave his brother a parting hug before he too left, dragging his things behind him.


	7. Driving the Fox Mad

Brea felt like she was suddenly sitting in the back of her own memories watching others move by. Hogwarts student’s fare-welling their beloved parents were a rapid blur. Torrin, Rose, Stacy chatting about their summer adventures seemed to happen in slowed motion, their voices hollow. How could she have let herself lose sight of what was important? While she had been running around the last two years pretending everything was fine. That they-

"Brea, Brea!" Stacy yelled poking her in the arm.

"Hmm?” Brea said, blinking her eyes. Her friends looked at her in concern.

"Are you alright?" Torrin asked.

"Couldn't be better!" Brea said with a smile. But she wasn't. She felt guilt. Immense selfish guilt. The happiness of so many was waiting for her. She knew she was still much too young to do anything of worth.

She knew one thing she could do though. Learn parseltoung to open the chamber of secrets and kill the basilisks.

"How is Sir Guy of Wickliff doing this summer?” Teased Stacy in a playful tone.

"Oh he's well I suppose. We wrote a few times. Not about anything interesting really. My time at Miss Harluff’s is uneventful and dull.” Brea frowned. “The letters were a bit awkward really. But it’s always nice to hear from friends.”

“Right. Well I’m sure he’s looking forward to seeing you again…” Stacy said taking a glance at Rose who shrugged. Brea didn’t understand why her friends were giving each other such knowing glances and disliked the feeling of exclusion.

“What?”

“Nothing sweets. Let’s talk about the fact that Torrin is in need of a haircut!” Stacy said in a poor attempt to change the awkward subject.

“Oi! You birds leave my hair out of this.” He cried indignantly while trying to smooth out his curls. Brea couldn’t help but laugh at his expressive face.

With the dark mist gone from her thoughts for the moment Brea finally took in her three friends appearances. Torrin was becoming rather filled out since he began training for the Gryffindor keeper position which was open this year. His face lost some of its youthful fullness yet he always had the wide smile many knew him for. Torrin’s hair was indeed longer than recent years and it was now a wild blonde mess and the contrast with his almost black eyes startling. Next to him sat a blushing Rose who giggled as she watched him fuss with his hair. She was still very quiet but always willing to go along with the other three on their adventures. If it hadn’t been for her quick thinking they wouldn’t have gotten Raven (would someday be Fang’s Grandfather) Hagrid’s puppy free of the thestral pen. Poor puppy would have been trampled if Rose hadn’t thought to bring some raw meat when the four decided to go find them. Turns out only Rose could see them, as she had been witness to her grandmother’s death.

However plain Rose had started out in first year she was really blooming now. Her hair was kissed with highlights of all shades of brown and her eyes a kaleidoscope of hazel. Her figure was developing faster than either Brea’s or Stacy’s. She also might be the first of the four to fall in love if the way her eyes never left Torrin were an indication. And the glance he passed her when their hands accidently brushed over Stacy’s pet rat Carmen were any indication the second wasn’t far behind.

This brought Brea to looking at Anastasiya sitting beside her. She reminded Brea of a fairytale princess with her perfect golden hair parted down the middle, electric blue eyes, lips stained red with a touch of lipstick. Stacy was nearly as tall as Torrin and was considering going for a chaser position this year as well. Her level head mixed with her fierce competitiveness would make her a fantastic player.  
Brea had never been one to go on about looks but she really couldn’t help feeling like a ragdoll compared to her friends. She was still short, lacking anything that she would consider a curve. Her hair was a very pale blonde still and so wispy it was difficult to keep out of her face and in a bun or braid. Light amber eyes under dark brows, her nose a bit too round on the tip. Brea figured that at least her skin was clear...

’Regulus skin was clear too. His hair needed a trim but he did look pretty dangerous with it in his eyes-‘Brea abruptly stopped her thoughts and stood up with her eyes wide.

“Uh Brea? Ya alright there?” Torrin asked.

“I need to find the lavatory!” Brea said overly loud and stumbled into the isle of the train in a rush. ‘Where in storyland did that come from?’ Brea asked herself frantically running a hand through her hair. She walked the aisle quickly and unseeing. And as always as these things go whom does she bump into?

Regulus stepped into the aisle just as Brea was passing, sending them both into a tangled heap on the floor. Brea gave a wide eyed “eep!” when she noticed who she had bumped into which just happened to be the same wizard that had his arms around her, she was also having just moments ago thoughts of a fancying nature. Brea jumped up quickly.

“I’m so sorry Regulus I didn’t see you there. You see I was walking. Well of course I was walking I’m sure you could tell that only I wasn’t pay attention because you have really nice cheekbones!” Brea slapped her hand over her mouth in wide eyed mortification at what she had just said. Anthony whom had been helping Regulus stand dropped him at what Brea said and he looked at her in his own wide eyed shock.

Regulus who let out a loud “ow!” at being dropped again rubbed his head dazedly. “Wha? Brea are you ok? You should be careful in these narrow aisles.”

Brea burst out “I’m going to the lavatory and don’t you dare get in my way!” And she rushed off the opposite way of the loo, the way she had come from before anymore came along to see what was going on.

“She’s a bloody mad Fox.” Regulus grumbled as he stood and chuckled at how odd she was. Anthony was still speechless.

The rest of the ride to Hogwarts for Brea was spent with her buried in a muggle book about a romance blooming in an old haunted abbey, her friends left curious as to why Brea came back so early even more flushed and panicked than when she had left.

During the feast Brea kept herself hidden behind her DADA book even during the sorting.

“Brea! What are you doing! McGonagall is sending you one of her looks!” Stacy whispered from beside her. Brea looked at her and ushered her down.

“Is he looking?” she said in a frantic whisper.

“Is who looking? Guy?”

“No! Why would he be looking? No! Black?” Brea bit back. Stacy looked down several seats and saw that Sirius was busy flirting with a girl in his own year.

“No he’s flirting with the Marlene girl.”

“Not that Black!” Brea whispered with a roll of her eyes. “Regulus.” She said in a voice even quieter. Stacy looked at the Slytherin table- “Don’t look!” Brea snapped.

“Brea I have to look in order to see if he himself is looking!” Stacy snapped back.

“Alright alright just….for the love of unicorns don’t make it obvious.”

“What and be less obvious than you are?” Stacy said with a smirk. Brea rolled her eyes and nodded her head at where the Slytherin table was positioned while keeping her head behind her text book. Stacy took a drink of her pumpkin and quickly flicked her eyes towards the Slytherins. Most of them were paying attention to the sorting, cheering when a new witch or wizard joined their ranks. At her first glance Stacy didn’t think Regulus was paying any attention. But after a moment she could see his eyes flicker to where Brea sat with her DADA book stood up on the table and ducked down level with it. His expression was a mix of concern and amusement which Stacy found curious.

‘Interesting development this early in the year…’ she thought. Before she ducked down to Brea she accidently caught gazes with the Warwick git who arrogantly lifted a dark eyebrow and nodded his head subtly towards Brea. Stacy sent him a glare before ducking down to Brea’s level again.

“He’s not watching now you wanna tell me what this is all about?” Before Brea could answer-

“Misses Fox and Euna. I’m sure you will be able to explain why you could not pay attention during any of the sorting ceremony nor during the Headmasters announcements. A sixteen inch essay during detention tomorrow explaining your disrespect is in order.” Professor McGonagall said from behind them.

James, Sirius, and Peter cheered from a couple seats down with “All right Fox and Euna! Record breaking detention!” said James.

“That will be enough Mr. Potter” and after Brea and Stacy acknowledge the punishment she swished away. Brea let her book fall closed on the table with a thump and held her head in her hands, fingers tangled tightly in her hair.

‘Stupid, stupid, stupid’ she thought to herself and peeked to her side at an angry Stacy who was glaring at her hotly.

“Dorm room. Tonight. You had better explain everything.” And Brea heard Torrin whisper to Rose “Tell me everything?” To which she assumed Rose agreed to. Brea kept her eyes down the rest of the feast, sending silent messages to whatever divine being wanted to listen, to help her survive fourth year.

After the feast and when the three girls were each dressed in pajamas they sat on Brea’s bed. She brushed her hair and began with her run that morning.

“So as you know I began running every morning, I quite enjoy it, gives me a moment to think. As I was running I came upon Sirius and Regulus. Apparently they live only a few streets away from myself. Yes, so they were outside discussing whatever it is Black brothers have to discuss. I made um mental uh notes about how long their hair was and how it could use a trim? Right. Yes. And then on the train I noticed how lovely you two are looking and how handsome and tall Torrin is. And then I thought about how I’m NOT growing and changing. I mean I could pass as a street boy I’m sure! I told myself that at least I don’t have spotty skin. Not that there’s anything wrong with it only that it looks very painful and I really don’t have any tolerance for pain. You two should remember how I howled when the Whomping Willow managed to snap my wrist on that dare we did last year. Right then. So I was thinking about how I’m ever grateful for clear skin when I suddenly had the curious thought about a certain wizard who also happens to have clear skin and somehow this lead to his hair which was- IS in need of a trim made his eyes look rather dashingly dangerous when he looked through it. This naturally led me to panic. Honestly why would I be thinking of dashing dangerous silver eyes! I’ve always had a particular fondness for blue. Then as you know I left for the lavatory but what you DON’T know is that I never made it. That’s right. As I’m run- walking! Yes I was walking. As I’m walking I just happened to knock right into said wizard with dashing dangerous silver eyes. So there we are tangled up upon the floor…his arms err securely around my waist which led to more dashing thinking so I leap up and as Warwick is helping him to stand I utter the most ridiculous rambling of my entire life ending with my admiration of his cheekbones! Then I yell something about how he can’t stop me from using the lavatory before I run back to our compartment and into mortified hiding for the rest of this life and the next.” Brea ended her story with her pillow over her face and the peals of laughter from Stacy and giggles from Rose were muffled at least slightly.

“You’re in love!” Stacy squealed in delight.

“Oh I knew it would happen only…we all figured Guy would be the one…” Rose said in a dreamy voice. Brea sat up in shock.

“I can’t be in love! I’m only fourteen! And I’ve hardly spoken to him in the three years I’ve known him!” Stacy set her arm comfortingly around her shoulders.

“You may not recognize it yet but it’s there. And it’s not going to be easy with him being in Slytherin and all. But something deep in you sees the true him and accepts him with all his Slytheriness.” Stacy said wisely.

Brea sat stunned for a moment. ‘Am I really in love?’ Brea asked herself. She admitted to herself the thought of his potential death in four years made her sick to her stomach. Thoughts of him alone with his pureblood supremist parents and house mates made her feel just as sick. This need to save him was just as strong as her desire to save the others and Brea admitted to herself that maybe if she could do this….she lifted bright eyes to meet her friends

“I just always thought I’d fall in love with someone with the perfect color of blue for eyes. But… I suppose I am. But what do I do? I can’t do anything! His parents support Voldemort! And even though I know he doesn’t he’s not safe with me!” Brea scrambled out of her bed and began to pace. Stacy and Rose jumped over to her and forced her to sit back down.

“Now you listen. If there is one thing You-Know-Who will not come between, it is two people who I’m sure are meant to be together. And like you said. You are only fourteen and he doesn’t even know how you feel of him. He probably isn’t even aware of how he feels for you because boys are thick like that. The ministry will soon catch that murder and lock him up and everyone will live in a land of kittens and rainbows and you will go off and have enough little Black Fox’s for a Quidditch team.” Stacy said fiercely.

Brea knew deep down that’s not how her life was going to turn out but she gave Stacy a tight hug anyways. After giving one to Rose as well she sniffed and wiped her watery eyes.

“Thank you so much. You two are truly the best friends I could have ever hoped. I’m afraid that most others would have either teased me to death or abandoned me because we are Gryffindors and he’s a Slytherin.”

“Well I can’t say how Torrin would take the news. Probably do something foolish like march into the dungeons and try to curse him. Poor fellow may be able to fly but he’s rubbish at dueling.” Said Rose.

This brought Stacy and Brea into laughter and they stayed up past their normal bed time gossiping about boys who were turning into not so much boys any longer.

\---Despite how late she was up with the girls Brea still managed to wake up before the sunrise. She was tired and felt grumpy but she wanted to keep with her new morning habit. Dressed in red jogging shorts, a green Ireland Quidditch team jersey, sneakers and pony tail, Brea left ready for the peace it often brought. Ten minutes into her run along the black lake she saw two figures running from the opposite direction. The sky barely had any light yet so it was difficult to see whom was running towards her.

‘Figures there would be others out here…’ Brea grumbled in her mind, back in a bad mood. After running a bit closer Brea was able to recognize Regulus and his permanent fixture at his side, Warwick. ‘Blast, blast blast!’ she cursed. She considered trying to hide but saw there wasn’t anywhere to hide. She then told herself she was just going to run past them ignoring them and she almost succeeded. As she ran by, her chin lifted and eyes straight ahead, Regulus however turned as she ran by jogging in place, Warwick doing the same with a disapproving glare at Brea.

“No hello for us Fox?” he said in a surprising playful tone. Brea wanted to tell herself to keep running but she just couldn’t resist turning and running in place.

“Saving my breath for you now…important things like breathing?” she finished awkwardly. He put a dramatic hand over his heart “

“I’m wounded. Why _are_ you running anyways? Going for a Quidditch position?” he asked. Brea signed inwardly and stopped jogging in place. “I might. Dueling club for sure however. I run for the peace I get. I thank you for interrupting it by the way.” Both teenage boys raised their eyes in surprise and stopped jogging too. Brea walked over to the Black Lake and knelt down to splash some of the cool water on her face.

“Dueling huh. I suppose we will see you there then.” Regulus said as he walked over next to her.

“How are YOU going to manage Quidditch, dueling, AND being a pain?” Brea asked and He laughed loudly.

“Fox dueling is only once a week.”

Brea was momentarily astounded that someone would take something she loved, something she had looked forward to for so long, and something that she NEEDED to do so lightly. “But there’s more to it than just meeting once a week Black! There are so many strategies to learn and practice. Enemies to study. Spells to learn and invent.” She said fiercely. More than a bit incensed.

“It’s only a stupid club Fox. Something to put on my resume.” Brea flushed on her cheeks and her eyes flashed. She stood nearly chest to chest looking up at him.

“How foolish of me.” She whispered harshly “How stupid I am for believing in taking something so serious that could someday save your life Black.” Each word said forcefully with a shove to his chest until he was at the edge of the lake and when she finished she pushed him into the lake and whipped her wand from the waist of her short and aimed it at Warwick as he rushed towards his friend.

He held his hands up in defense. “If it helps I think he’s just being thick,” he whispered and nodded his head towards a sputtering Regulus attempting to pull out of the lake.

“It doesn’t but I don’t have time for this any longer. Thanks to you two pig heads, I’m behind on my run which means I’m going to have to skip a much desired breakfast, “she growled out but put her wand away and without another glance at the angry, dripping wet Regulus she ran back to the castle.

“What the bloody hell did I do wrong?” he gasped out to Anthony.

He only shrugged and said. “Women are barmy mate. And Gryffindor women? I figure they must be ten times even more barmy than normal.”

 

\---Since Brea had to run all the way back to Gryffindor tower for a shower and change and with Herbology for first period she knew she wouldn’t have time for breakfast. This and her interaction it Regulus turned her grumpy mood to almost dangerous. She managed to catch up to the group of students from her year on their way down to the green houses. A quick glance around and she saw Regulus and Warwick standing near the edge of the group with the other Slytherins, sending her angry glances to which she made sure to answer back with her own. The two were in the middle of an angry staring contest when Guy walked up to her.

“Morning Brea! I saw you weren’t at breakfast. I guessed you were out running like you had written me about during the summer break. So I brought you a muffin!” Guy said and held up a strawberry muffin.  
Not breaking her angry glare from Regulus she snatched the muffin from Guy with an angry “Thank you Guy.” Then she took a large obvious bite and if possible Regulus looked even angrier than before. “It’s very good.” She said enjoying the thought that she got to have a little breakfast after all and if Regulus looks were to be judge he didn’t get to have any.

“Uh you’re welcome?” Guy said in confusion looking between Brea and Regulus. “Is everything alright? Did the Black bloke do something? I’ll speak to a professor for you if he did.” Brea refused to give in first and look away from what apparently became a, who could stare angrier test between herself and Regulus.

“Nothing other than he’s a thicker than Potters ego.”

"Oh well if he bothers you let me know. I know a few professors who would enjoy giving a Slytherin a well-deserved set down." This statement startled Brea so much she lost the glaring contest. She stopped abruptly and turned her wrath on an unsuspecting Guy.

"How dare you!" She said a bit loud, earning her several stares. She lowered her voice but the anger was very apparent. "You know nothing of him nor what he has to go through on a daily basis just to avoid mind crushing torture. You should take a harsh look at yourself and consider not giving strength to prejudice and hatred." She left a stunned Guy and marched the rest of the way to the greenhouse.

"What in Merlin's beard was that all about?" Stacy asked as Brea stood between her and Rose.

"This just might be the year I go batty," said Brea.

\---Brea’s foul mood continued with every class. The homework piling on already, the detention she got for herself and Stacy, the guilt of forgetting her mission, realizing Wickliff was a git, and Regulus with his other half, interrupting her peaceful sleep deprived morning. By detention she simply wanted her bed by the window, Gred by her ear, and a Jane Austen book in her hands. After a sloppy essay describing her disrespect, she and Stacy headed straight for their dorm, tuning out the voices of James begging Lily to watch him practice, her answer for him to jump off the astronomy tower without wand or broom, Sirius scaring a first year with Peeves tales and Peter laughing uproariously.

"I'm sorry for that Stacy." Brea said once in bed. Rose was in the bathroom still.

"It’s alright. My honor to share the record for getting detention over my best friend being a dork." Brea smiled and hopped tomorrow would be better.

The next morning Brea did wake with a clearer mind and the decision to avoid running along the Black Lake. Instead she ran along the grounds. Mapping out a path was more of a challenge but she found one that was peaceful and she didn’t run into ridiculous boys this time. However as she was running past the old ruins of the clock tower Brea noticed an overgrown path disappearing behind the walls of the clock towers courtyard. Her time was running about yet she couldn’t resist not knowing where it went to. Steadying her breath and wand at the ready Brea walked along the path, brushing low hanging vines out of her way. Through the path she came upon a very old stone wall covered in moss and vines. At first glance Brea really did think it was just a wall, a part of the clock tower and nothing of interest but a flash of color through the vines caught her eye, using her wand she moved the vines to the side to reveal an oval opening just large enough for a person to get through if they bent slightly.

Of course Brea knew she had to step through and in the early morning light she gasped in delight. Inside was a garden of stone and green, old benches lined an ancient walkway with flower bushes and ferns of every color. Flowers which shouldn’t be in bloom flourished and filled the air with the fresh smell of flowers and clean grass. Winter might be the season of Brea’s soul but an eternal spring was the next best thing. She had just finished exploring when she heard the distant call of a bell which threw Brea in a panic. She was late! Running as fast as her short legs would allow she made it to Gryffindor tower as the other students were leaving for class.

Brea attempted to sneak into Professor Binns History of Magic class unnoticed. Hard to do since everyone was already seated and passing notes during his lecture. The slightest commotion gets everyone’s attention. Knowing she looked absolutely frightful with her hair in a sagging ponytail, her tie undone, shirt untucked, stockings still around her ankles and robes held in her arms instead of on them.  
Ignoring the whispering stares Brea stared straight ahead and moved to a seat in the back, hoping Bins continuing of his lecture meant he hadn’t notice her slip in. However as soon as she sat down he said “Detention Miss Fox,” without pausing between sentences. The classroom snickered and Brea groaned letting her head fall on the desk.

She muttered “Yes sir.” Across the room sat an angry Regulus.

“What do you suppose she’s been up to?” He whispered angrily to Anthony who as absent mindedly drawing on his parchment.

“Well if you ask me...” he glanced back at the Fox girl. Her rosy cheeks, breathing still faster than normal, and over all dishevelment. His first thought was snogging, and he got a rather wicked idea. Leaning back to Regulus he muttered “she looks as if she has been recently snogged senseless.” He almost delighted in the anger rolling off his best friend and couldn’t resist shaking him up a bit more. “Maybe even by that Hufflepuff bloke that’s always following her. He did bring her a muffin yesterday after you caused her to miss breakfast…”

At first Regulus didn’t say anything until he snapped his quill. “Bloody hell...” he growled and gave Anthony an angry glare.

\---The next day Brea made a point of ignoring all distractions during her morning run ensuring she had enough time for an after run shower, properly dressed, and a decent breakfast. She wasn’t afraid of detention but it was really cutting into her homework time and her wish to get back into the Room of Requirement. After diligently taking notes for all her classes, doing as much homework before dinner as possible, and eating a large meal Brea skipped up to the defense room. Luckily there would be no dueling it was simply the first meeting to discuss partners and rules.

There weren’t many there to sign up, much to Brea’s surprise. She had figured the club to be popular with students just itching to curse one another. However the four Marauders, herself, Stacy, a couple of sixth and seventh years made up the Gryffindors. Less than five made up by Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. Guy was the only Hufflepuff and he didn’t meet Brea’s eyes, there was Regulus, and Anthony as well as three other Slytherins. Brea rolled her eyes when she noticed that out of sixteen students she was one of only three witches to sign up, Stacy and the other a Ravenclaw. Once everyone had signed up, the professor broke up the meeting and said tomorrow he would have a list of partners posted.

Brea had noticed Regulus and Warwick whispering the entire time and joking to themselves. Her temper rising with each second by the end of the meeting her hands were clenched irrationally. Why weren’t they taking this serious? Even the bloody Marauders were paying attention. Once the meeting adjourned and students filed out Brea stomped up to Regulus.

“If you aren’t here to take this seriously Black you and your sidekick should leave it to us whom actually want to prepare ourselves.” She said to him angrily.

The laughter left the two boys eyes immediately and Regulus snapped back at her “Those people in there were a bloody joke Brea. Half of them, your little lapdog included, wouldn’t know how to defend against a dark curse even if their wand did it for them. If you really believe this is going to help you become a better dueler then be prepared to be let down.”

Brea’s eyes flashed and she stood as tall as she could. “It’s why I’m here. To help them survive. Why are you here?” Regulus flicked his eyes from her face to behind her. His brother and friends were standing behind her, and the Hufflepuff bloke was behind them.

Looking back at Brea he said quietly and for only her to hear “It’s another thirty minutes away from the dungeons….and the only excuse for..” he broke off shaking his head and said a bit louder “Madness.”  
Brea stepped back and she felt Sirius put an arm around her shoulders to lead her away, she glanced over her shoulder to see Regulus leaning against the wall, shoulders hunched, Guy walking in the opposite direction.

“Come along Mad Fox,” Sirius said giving her shoulders a squeeze.

Before they rounded the corner Brea yelled out “And bloody stop saying bloody!” Surprising Regulus into a slight smile as he looked up, and Sirius laughed loudly.

\---The next afternoon Brea was on her way to the library to get a head start on the homework due next week when she heard James and Sirius hollering her name from down the hall. In impatience she waited as they took turns gasping out of breath

“So we were following Snivolus-“ Sirius broke off as she interrupted him.

“Severus you mean,” Brea said with a frown

“Whatever. And we went by the defense room.” Said James.

“And we didn’t think the partners would be posted yet-“

“But they were, I got paired with the Ravenclaw bird by the way, not complaining about that-“

“Sirius!” Brea said.

“You got paired with-“

“Regulus!”

Brea stomped her foot in frustration. “Naturally I get stuck with the git who doesn’t even care about the club.” Sirius laughed.

“Yea have fun with that. James got paired with a skeevy looking Slytherin, and Stacy got paired with the Warwick bloke.”

“It’s already going to be more exciting than last year’s club” James said ruffling Brea’s hair.

She swatted him away and asked “So what are you so masterful charmers off to do instead of homework?”

“Probably get back on the hunt for ol Snivel- uh Severus…” Sirius said when Brea glared at him.

“You know James if you keep harassing Lily’s best friend it’s only going to make her dislike you more.” When James scoffed and rolled his eyes she pressed harder. “I mean it Potter. Someday she will really like you if only you would stop being a git around her all the time. Severus is her oldest friend and told her she wasn’t a freak when her own sister ostracized her for being different. And now she sees you doing the same to her best friend.”

“But you know he’s digging into the Dark Arts Brea! Lily shouldn’t be around him!”

Brea’s voice grew passionate and waved her hands through the air as she spoke. “So what if he is! That doesn’t make him evil- it doesn’t! For all you know Lily may be the only one keeping him from going full on Death Eater! Lily cares for him and him for her and you will only drive her further from you if you torture him so. James do you have any idea what they do to other Slytherins down in those dungeons if they don’t practice Dark Arts? They have nowhere to go so they act out of survival. You are so good inside James and if you give Lily time she will see it for herself. And you can start by doing the brave and dashing thing and support her choice of friend.” Brea ended her speech in a desperate attempt to make him see reason.

This was the first action she had taken against the future since first year and it felt important. Important that Lily and Severus stay friends. She knew without a doubt that Lily would eventually fall for James and if she stopped the torture now then maybe just maybe they will have more time together than they did before. And maybe Severus would see that James wasn’t all that bad after all and not latch so emotionally onto the regret of losing Lily in his life and find his own piece of happiness.

James looked at her stunned and Sirius a bit skeptical but Brea wasn’t done yet. Orders began to fly from her lips. “And another thing, give some of Peters’ ideas a chance. He could use some confidence and who better to give it to him and his best friends.” Brea turned and walked down the Hall, the two Marauders left to ponder her words, and yelled over her shoulder, “Tell Moony I have some chocolate for him in the common room.”


	8. Parallels

Brea checked her homework journal to be sure she was ahead for the week. Seeing her weekend free Brea dashed out of bed for her run, leaving little Gred on her windowsill. The crisp fresh air of the Hogwarts greenery cleared her mind, left her ready to begin her day doing the only thing she could do to prepare herself. After a fast breakfast and dodging Torrin’s badgering about Quidditch tryouts, she ran to the Room of Requirement. The Room equipped itself with targets and dummies at her disposal, waiting for her to begin.

The young witch spent nearly the entire day brushing up on her shielding spells before trying her lower skill spells, pleased she had pushed herself to read ahead in her research. Next were a few higher level spells in which it took quite some time to get the intricate wand movements just right. Soon after however she caught on to the more advanced spell work and she was dodging spells from the Rooms dummies and flinging curses and jinxes. She didn’t have the elegance that Sirius was rumored to have but she was determined to match him before the end of the year.

By the late afternoon Brea was dripping sweat and breathing heavily, exhaustion settling on her heavily. ‘So much for thinking you were fit old girl. Imagine having to do this day in and day out.’ She wondered to herself.

It was quite past the time to take a break but Brea wanted to try to try one last spell on her first day of training herself. Brea wanted to call a patronus. Over the summer Brea had read all about them and knew they could be quite difficult to call. She had never attempted one before but knew from her reading she would need her happiest memory. Brea thought hard. Her memories of before Hogwarts were faded and the faces difficult to remember now, certain memories were still clear such has riding on Ron’s shoulders and while they were indeed happy she could no longer fill herself with the feeling she had from them so long ago. To be honest there hadn’t been many moments of pure happiness since her walk across time. There was Sirius tickling her into hysterics for pour ink on his transfiguration essay. And Rose brushing her hair in just the same way Hermione would, humming a tune. But Brea supposed her absolute happiest moment was the moment when her three friends on the last night of their third year were huddled in front of the common room fire, laughter mixed with that of the four marauders as they sprawled across the chairs and couches telling jokes and stories on their last night before summer holidays. Brea had felt like she almost belonged with them. That she had always been with these wonderful people.

Letting it fill her she lifted her wand and said "Expecto patronum!" Nothing happened and Brea sighed, secretly hoping that she would have been brilliant enough to get the difficult spell on her first go. An unpleasant feeling of being subpar took over, turning her once good mood a bit sour.

"I'll work on you again when I'm not so exhausted." She promised herself, not ready to give up on the impossible magic just yet.

\--"Where have you been oft to all day?" Torrin said as a sweaty Brea sat across from him and Rose for dinner.

“I'm taking more classes this year, so between all the homework, detentions, my new hobby of running and now practicing for the dueling club, I’ve just not been able to slow down." Brea replied with a shrug as she smothered a plate of roasted beef with greens and gravy.

"You don't have to take on so much Brea the world will go on if you slow down. We hardly see you anymore. And that’s saying something as I have Quidditch practice if I want that keeper position! That’s another bit. You said you would try out with Stacy for chaser. What happened to that?" He said uncharacteristically in a bossy tone.

Brea’s temper which had already been on a thin wire recently snapped and she set her fork onto the table angrily, her eyes flashing gold.

"That's just it Torrin. Maybe I've got a bit more at stake in this life and I'm doing everything I can to save it. Save people like you. Maybe I don’t have time to play petty games." Brea snapped.

"Brea!" Rose cried in shock. But the upset witch ignored both their shocked expressions and stormed from the Great Hall, her appetite gone. She was almost running for the Entrance Hall, her emotions full of righteous anger. ‘Don’t they realize that something has to be done? Who has time for silly games anymore? They want to remain ignorant that’s fine with me but to ask me to do the same when I already know so much? How dare him.’ Each thought pulling her further and further from her once solid friendship.

Brea ended up in the little garden which had in the beginning caused her such trouble, now she sought its peace. The emotional young witch laid down on an old stone bench with a sigh. A glow of fireflies floated through the air, a pink sunset highlighting the ferns and trees. Serenity was instant but didn’t last long as it made way for guilt.

‘What was wrong with me?' She asked herself. She felt so unprepared for this task, these emotions, and this life in general! Why did it all fall on her! She wished with everything she could that she could follow Torrin’s advice. Not take so many classes, skip on homework and take a music class instead of defense. She wished she could tell the boy she fancied that she thought he was brave and handsome without putting him in danger. That she had the luxury of having a dream job paired with a fairy tale love. But she didn't. She's instead armed with knowledge on how to defeat the darkest wizard of all and yet she was too young and ignorant to do away with him or do anything about it. Brea had always wondered what would happen if she went to someone for help. Told them what she knew. And she supposed she could even make them believe her what with the wondrous use of magic. But then there were no guarantees that she was trusting the right person, that even with an unbreakable vow that they wouldn’t somehow sell her secrets to the wrong sort. Dumbledore could be trusted she thought but when she remembered how the brilliant Headmaster was so willing to use others to achieve a means she balked. Brea felt as if her life was already out of her control enough as it was. Being handled by Dumbledore was just as undesirable as being used by Voldemort. ‘Maybe if things become truly bad…’ Brea thought. Then shook her head. No she was being used enough already. This one thing she had control of, her secrets and she would keep them to her grave if she must. Having already spent her life living in the lies and half-truths of others then again with those of her own.

"What am I going to do...?” She whispered into the gardens sky of fading light.

\--The next two months dragged by for the students of Hogwarts. Days became a repetition of homework and classes, detention for some, extracurricular practices for others. Torrin was accepted as the Gryffindor keeper, and Stacy as a backup chaser. Brea was extremely proud of him and even though they were both on speaking terms their usual easy friendship was missing. She was unsure how to go about fixing the rift, and as he was obvious disinclined to make the first attempt, Brea didn’t see why she should either. The thought of apologizing for saying what she felt was the truth left a sour taste in her mouth so she pushed her problematic friendship to the back of her mind, focusing on more important aspects of her life.  
Not only was her relationship with Torrin strained, but Rose seemed to be taking the wizards side as she spoke to Brea even less than before. Brea tried not to feel hurt, telling herself that this was what made them girls. They chose love over each other. But Brea was deeply affected by losing Rose as a close friend. No longer did Rose choose to sit with Brea at the front of the room, rather she left Brea to endure alone, the seat next to her remained empty.

Brea tried sitting with other students but most were content with their partners, usually the same pairs since first year. Brea had considered begging Stacy to sit with her as they had more than a few classes together now, and Brea knew taking her from Stewart Langley would be unfair to poor Stewart. He was entirely likeable yet he was obviously head over heels for Stacy. And heartbreaker that she was Stacy exploited his adoration just a small bit. Stacy went on as if everything was fine but Brea could tell by the way she glared at the Slytherin table during breaks, something was bothering her. If you dared to ask her though she would flash a winning smile and say everything was fine. For Brea if she wasn't in class, eating, or sleeping than she was in the library for homework, in the Room perfecting her spells, or when her frustration that is teenage life became too much for four walls, Brea would slip down to her own secret garden which she had bestowed the childishly ridiculous name of Fox Hole.

Eventually Brea found her life evening out, her classes were going well at last and was making impressive progress in the dueling club. And she truly enjoyed the sometimes beautiful dance that dueling could be. Watching James, Sirius, and Remus duel was an entertaining show. Sirius was exceptional, just as Harry had described him. He was elegant and commanding when he showed his skills, and she hopped to get to go against him, secretly wishing she had been paired with him. Would have been easier on her girlish emotions.

Regulus however surprisingly was a fantastic partner. He wasn't as talented as she and his fighting definitely had a rougher feel than his elder brothers but Brea couldn't help the dreamy fascination with the shake of his head to get his hair out of his flashing silver eyes, or how dangerous he seemed with them narrowed in concentration. Despite being partners, the two kept as far apart as the professor would allow them to get away with, only speaking with the terms of dueling. Brea felt dark pleasure whenever she bested the wizard. Which to her happy pride was always. The thought of losing to anyone, especially Regulus could put Brea in a dark place. Luckily for the others around her, the extra time she put into practicing kept Brea in a happy cloud of prideful accomplishment. Her happiness became infectious to Regulus and always after a meeting they parted ways with a smile, not thinking of who else would notice.

The same couldn't be said for Stacy and Anthony. The unbalanced duo usually started the practice with an argument, him calling her a stubborn Duchess and then they would fire hexes without any real strategy or purpose and ending with them coldly ignoring the other. The helpless romantic in Brea found that whole situation deeply adorable. But she somehow knew better than to open her opinions about it.  
Brea had notice a drop in threats against Severus and he spent more time outdoors away from the castle. She hopped this was a good sign.

Within the relative normalness of the past few months Brea became accustomed to her newly strained friendships, and hiding feelings for a Slytherin. Brea made a habit of looking for positive signs everywhere she went. Signs that she was making progress. She had to admit that they were few and far in-between. Over time she did take it as a good sign that the Marauders seemed to have taken her advice and kept away from Severus. His friendship with Lily remained strong and Brea hopped the peace would last.

With the many changes Brea was going through came a distinct impatience about her. Feelings of not fitting surrounded her. She was ready to be skilled enough to take on the world. Life just wasn't happening. In her restlessness as always with Brea the dawning of first winter’s snow brought with it a flurry of change.

\--The early morning brought an excited bundled Brea bounding out of the castle to the snow covered courtyard. She couldn't spend long since it was a Wednesday but Brea was just glad winter was back. Her mood remained light as a feather all through the day. Feeling as if nothing could bother here now that winter was there, feeding her strength.

During the dueling meeting the class learned that at the end of the term there would be a mock battle and Brea excitedly bounced ideas off of Regulus on strategies they should use.

“Alright we will be facing Sirius and Katy. Now Sirius is truly brilliant at dueling so it might be best if he focuses on me since I have faster reflexes and Katy is absolute rubbish at defensive spells so she should be quick work. I believe it would be best if I take Sirius by surprise by starting with high level curses which he won’t be expecting since I’m a girl and let’s face it he’s pretty chauvinistic…” Brea rambled on.  
Regulus was too amused by her take charge attitude and opinions to even be offended that she thought his skills were lesser than her own. He watched with a puppy smile as she wrote her strategic ideas down on parchment frowning as she listed everyone’s strengths and weaknesses.

“Are you honestly telling me you don’t have any weakness at fighting and I have…terrible aim?!” He laughed when Brea didn’t even hesitate to confirm what she had written.  
“It’s true you have awful aim and I am pretty confident.”

Regulus kept on grinning as she continued her work. When she tucked her hair behind her ear she did it with her quill still in her hand and got ink on her cheek. Without thinking Regulus reached up and used his thumb to wipe the ink off. She did a little blush and looked up at him through her lashes, Brea reached up to softly hold his hand.

“Thank you.” She whispered smiling back at him. Neither noticed the other Slytherins catch the glance or the worried look on Anthony’s face.

\--Late that Friday afternoon Brea was leaving the Library after finishing research for her potions exam when she was knocked into rather harshly.

"Watch it Fox bitch," an older Slytherin boy, named McNair if she remembered correctly. Something about his name toyed with Brea’s distant memory.

He was with several others. All sixth and seventh years by the looks of them. And each giving her a look as if she were disgusting.

Brea stood and dusted herself off slowly before she spoke. "So you know who I am. An honor I'm sure. And you lovely gents are?" Brea said sarcastically. The one she thought was McNair gave her a wicked sneer.

"Oh I think you know who I am and what I can do." Brea sighed looking bored though she was feeling every bit of scared inside.

"I'm sorry gents but I just spent three hours staring at dusty books. Now have I done something to offend you lot?"

"It's enough that you dared touch a pureblood with that filthy mudblood of yours." Brea felt herself go hot at the term mudblood. Picturing the scar on Hermione’s arm.

"You have no rightly idea what you are talking about. You don't know me nor my family," Brea snapped back, pulling her wand out.

Before she could say a word he snatched her wand and growled, "Grab her." As his cohorts grabbed her arms, he silenced her and the group dragged her to an empty classroom. Silenced and tied to a chair Brea could only try to hold back her tears of pain as McNair used a wicked looking knife to cut her slowly on her cheek the, the same one Regulus had cleaned the ink from. “Don’t worry you worthless pile of filth.” Brea heard McNair whisper in her ear. The sound of mocking laughter and cruel jeers surrounding Brea in the dark room. The occasional flash of light passed before Brea’s blurry eyes before she felt the searing agony of McNair carving the word "FILTH" on the tops of her hands.

She found it almost Ironic that she was almost the same age as Harry when that Umbridge witch carved cruel words on the tops of his own.

Something about the dark magic in that knife made the pain unbearable. Brea already had a low tolerance for pain and this just made her want to die. Unable to even comprehend how she had landed herself in her current situation, it was all she could manage to remember to breathe through the dark burning.

"Don't bother trying to turn us in for this.“ McNair was saying as he cleaned the knife. "Be happy we are leaving you with the memories." Before he and the others left he threw her wand on the floor and said over his shoulder "and stay away from Black. He's showing great progress and potential. He's already making waves in the community with his...willingness. It would be awful if his chances at a long career were ruined because of a pair of fluttering eyes." And then they were gone.

The spells released and Brea gasped out a broken sob and stumbled to her wand. She picked it up with trembling blood soaked hands and left the classroom. The blood loss began to make her dizzy and she had to use the wall for support.

Lost on where she could go she wandered empty corridors and halls. After sometime she stumbled out into the snow covered courtyard, covering her burning hands in the numbing snow. She heard voices and looked up to see Regulus and Anthony walking towards her, Regulus with his Quidditch broom in hand. The smile that lit up his face smashed her heart and she looked about frantically. Mcnair's threats still fresh in her mind Brea broke into a stumbled run from the courtyard looking for somewhere safe.

"Brea!" Regulus called after. He ran up to where she had been standing and frowned. He saw the blood on the snow and fear clutched his stomach like a fiery fist and he ran after her, Anthony just steps behind him. She wasn't difficult to find, her trail of blood led the way to a hidden trail by the old clock tower. And through it the wizards found a trembling Brea knelt down in a green garden filled with flowers, the evening air warm and fragrant, and a stark contrast to the winter on the other side.

The boys found Brea sat under a low hanging tree, knees bent and her face buried in her robes. Her soft cries tore at Regulus’ heart and he turned to Anthony, with a quiet voice, said, "You best go find Anastasiya. And have her being some bandages." Anthony nodded and left, leaving the two alone. Regulus walked over to Brea and knelt down in front of her.

"You shouldn't be here. If they find out your-" she said in quiet panic.

"Shhh they won't know. Anthony and I weren't expected for a long time anyways. Now...can I see?" He asked. She sniffed and raised her head from her knees. The cut along her cheek wasn't deep but the dark magic kept the blood from clotting at a normal rate. Her neck and pale hair were soaked in her own blood. The sight paired with her tears of pain caused him his own pain. Pulling her hair away from her neck and using his robes to wipe up the blood from her face he whispered in a harsh voice "It's not bad at all. I have doubts it will even scar." Though he meant well Brea’s face crumpled and she dropped it back onto her knees and held her hands up the tops facing him.

The anger and hatred that filled Regulus was instant. He automatically grabbed both of her wrists gently and lowered them into his robe wrapping them up. Regulus knew right away that her hands were in much worse condition. Would be disfigured thanks to dark magic. He lowered his forehead onto the back of her head and said "I will make them pay for this I swear," with a voice full of anger. Brea looked up quickly in panic, tears freely falling from wide eyes.

"No! You mustn't do anything!"

"Brea I can't let them get away with this-"

"And we won't! They will pay! I have a-" she broke off when she heard steps coming from beyond the garden walls.

\--Stacy was lounging in front of the common room fire, quietly flipping through a witch weekly issue. Relaxed laziness. Just what she enjoyed most.

"This says if you have been dreaming about a birds nest falling on your head then you will be getting a pimple somewhere on your face in the next week..." She said absentmindedly to Torrin and Rose who were enjoying a game of Wizards chess. Rose winning.

"Interesting." Torrin replied, obviously only half listening.

"And also that if-"

"Uh Stacy?"

"Ya?" She looked up at a second year standing by her.

"There's a guy outside the port… a very irate guy. Asked me to get you and said it was important."

Stacy rolled her eyes at the wolf whistle Torrin issued. "Another poor bloke to turn down eh?" he said with a laugh. She had been asked out by several wizards during the last couple months but she just wasn't interested. Sighing, she rolled off the couch gracefully and stuck her young out at Torrin, causing Rose to giggle lightly.

“This better be bloody good...oh it's you. Look I'm not in the mood for-" Stacy began to grumble before being interrupted.

"Listen Duchess we don't have time for you to sit atop your royal pony named Prince. Fox has been hurt. Badly and needs bandages. And we need to keep it quiet." Stacy was stunned speechless and remained frozen. "Go hurry!" Anthony said impatiently and waited as she nodded and ran back into her common room.

She ignored the curious questions from Torrin as she hurried back out to Anthony with bandages and some dittany she had left over from last year. She yelped in surprise when Anthony grabbed her hand and pulled her down stairs and hall ways, out of the castle.

'Maybe this Warwick bloke isn't such a git if he's trying to help Brea.' She thought before speaking out loud. "Where is she? What happened?” She asked as they ran.

"Some garden she found and I don't know. I left to get you before finding out. But I have my suspicions. Those two think they are clever in hiding how they feel but they foolishly allowed the wrong sort of

people see the wrong sort of look. Stupid girl. She shouldn’t have touched him." He said angrily. This flared Stacy's temper and she yanked her hand from Anthony’s grip.

"How dare you blame her? If you had convinced him to stay away from-"

"We don't have time for this! She was losing a lot of blood when I last saw her."

“This is not over," she bit out.

"Of course it's not Duchess." He said with a roll of his brown eyes. When they finally made their way through the opening of the garden the sun was well gone and could only see by the light of their wands. Stacy turned into full on healer mode when she saw the state of her friend. She rushed over and pushed Regulus roughly off to the side and he stood with hands tangled in his hair as he watched, Anthony beside him.

"Merlin Brea!"

"I'm ok shhh I'm ok really just a bit of blood," Brea said in a tired voice, more for her benefit than her friends.

"Brea! I know you! You stub a toe and you’re wearing a full leg cast and downing pain potions like they were cola shots!" This brought out a watery smile from the injured witch and Regulus looked at Anthony, curious who answered with a clueless shrug. Brea bit her lip in pain as Stacy worked on cleaning her wounds.

"You would...make...a great…healer...Stacy" Brea said, breathing through the new increase in painful burning.

Stacy smiled as bright as she could. "Fellas I could use more light." And the two boys held their lighted wands down closer so she could see her work better. By the time the blood had slowed enough for the bandages to do their job the time was very late. Brea wiped her eyes one last time.

"You two should go. Say you stopped by the kitchens. I'm sorry about your robe...” She whispered and tried to stand.

"Slow now. There you go." Regulus had rushed over to Brea and helped her to stand. He began to walk her to the exit of the garden, she was leaning on him slightly. Stacy let them walk away before she stormed over to Anthony, eyes wild and angry.

"You keep him away from her! She's a sweet girl and deserves all the kindness in the world. Not the pain he is and will bring her!" She whispered harshly, her Russian accent deepening slightly. Anthony had to bend slightly to be at eye level, his own anger getting hot.

"If you think I have some control over Regulus you are mistaken Duchess. Perhaps you should keep your fox in a cage. In fact you are bloody stupid for trusting me and going anywhere with me alone!" He snarled, handsome features in a scowl. Stacy straightened her back, her face losing all expression.

"You honestly blame her for this. You know...I had thought as you brought me out here that you were different."

"Well Duchess think again. I only helped because that bloody friend of mine asked me to. I personally believe we shouldn’t have involved ourselves but too late for that." Stacy didn't answer. She simply shook her head in disappointment and left him there.

Brea and Regulus hadn’t gone far, when Stacy caught up to the pair and she angrily pulled Brea to her side.

"You shouldn't be seen with him." She said to Brea and then looked at Regulus, “You and the kingly wanker can go the long way.”

Regulus pulled Stacy away from Brea for a moment and whispered “You will not let her out of your sight. Got it? She should never be alone...” he said roughly and she coldly nodded.  
With her arm set around Brea’s waist and helped her into the castle. Since the time was very late no one was left in the common room and as the two tiptoed into their dorm room and sighed in relief that Rose was sound asleep. Brea was still feeling listless and empty as Stacy helped her clean up and change. Her skin was very pale, and her eyes seemed tired and sunken. The two laid down in Brea’s bed, Gred wadded up under Brea’s chin, Brea slipped her hand into Stacy’s and whispered brokenly, “Thank you Stacy.” Tears coming to her eyes. “I don’t know how I managed to land in this situation, I didn’t do anything wrong I swear!”

“Shhh don’t worry.” Stacy said as she moved some of Brea’s limp hair from her forehead. “You just need to get some rest.” Brea nodded and closed her eyes.

“I thought I was so strong Stacy. I’m supposed to be unbreakable. I have to be. But… here I am crying about a few cuts.” Brea felt her eyes water again at how pathetic she felt. ‘So much for being the incredible heroine Hermione so hoped I could be.’ Brea thought with a sigh.

“No talk like that. Brea you were tortured sweetie. They tried to take your strength from you honey. Don’t let them. You are only weak if you don’t learn from this.” Stacy murmured encouragingly, smoothing Brea’s matted hair from her face.

Brea soaked up the power from Stacy’s wise words. “Please don’t blame him. What he’s doing is important for us all.” Brea whispered.  
Stacy rolled her eyes at the love sick comment. “Sleep.” And she watched over her friend for a bit longer before falling into her own sleep filled with dreams of an innocent lamb luring her into the shadows where she remained lost forever.

\---The next morning Brea had a wretched fever and shivers wracked her body. Stacy managed to keep Rose from seeing the bandages on Brea’s hands and she explained the wound on her cheek was from tripping on the trick step and it must have become infected. Rose accepted the explanation with a small level of suspicion but she offered to help and brought Brea a potion to help with the fever before leaving to watch Torrin practice for his Quidditch match against Hufflepuff. Stacy hovered over Brea for the entire weekend, only leaving her side to eat and even then her main goal was to take Brea something to eat as well.

Stacy ignored the Slytherin table with a vengeance and she hoped to Merlin those two arses that sat among them were doing the same. She answered Torrin’s and Sirius concerns over where Brea was with the simple “She’s not feeling well.” And left it at that. If Brea wanted them to know what happened to her then she could tell them.

By Monday Brea felt hardly well enough for classes but she was stubborn and very happy to get out of bed finally.

‘Stacy’s a wonderful friend but holy knight she can smother…’ Brea thought as she snuck to her wardrobe and dressed for the day. Her fever over the weekend left her feeling weak and her wounds burned. They hadn’t begun to heal yet and were an angry red. Every time she looked at the words forever on her hands she felt sick. She kept them hidden in the sleeves of her robe as much as possible and vowed to sit with Stacy whenever she could from then on. A pox on Stewart and his puppy love. She needed to comfort of her best friend.

\---All during her first breakfast since the attack she could feel several pairs of eyes on her from across the hall but knew she couldn’t risk someone seeing her looking toward them. When she walked into their first class, out of the corner of her eye she saw Regulus, concern etched of his face. ‘Merlin that boy needs to learn to hide his feelings.’ She thought but sent him a quick hidden wink to let him know she was fine. Frustrated and bruised pride with aching hands but fine.

Inside Brea felt some girlish spark of hope that given with all his concern he might have some sort of stronger feelings. ‘Not that I could do anything…maybe when this is all over if he still felt the same. But what if he doesn’t and I missed any chance! It will all be ok. Just around the corner after all the darkness is gone’ Brea thought. Stacy nudged her from her daydreams bringing her back to the present.

\--The week was going about as normally as expected, once the concern over her cut cheek was old news. Brea was afraid of what would happen during the dueling meeting on Wednesday afternoon but both she and Regulus kept their distance, their eyes cold, and conversations short only saying what was necessary. However once the meeting was complete as he walked past Brea he brushed his hand over one of her bandaged hands using their robes to hide the touch. Brea felt the touch all the way to her stomach and had to fight to keep her face blank. On the outside she looked cold and bored but on the inside she felt butterflies fluttering up a storm for the first time.

\--Over the course of the next couple of weeks Brea thought she was going to lose her mind with Stacy around constantly. They already had most of their classes together and usually Brea did her studying alone in the library and would help Stacy if she asked for it on her own time. Ever since Brea was attacked however Stacy followed her to the library, and continually distracted Brea with comments about whatever gossip magazine she was reading. She was there during every meal and every class and every bathroom visit and every little moment of her life now.

‘I can’t even seem to break away for time in the Room of Requirement or for a run- there’s a thought!’ Brea thought to herself during dinner. ‘I have got to have a moment to myself to think!’ Early the following morning Brea snuck out of the girls dorm room and over to the Room of Requirement. The snow may prevent her from running and Stacy may keep her from dueling in the evening but there was nothing wrong with using alleged running time for fighting time.

“Hello old friend,” Brea greeted the Room with a smile of contentment and fell into the familiar dance of fighting. Unleashing all the anger and pain she had been hiding inside since that Friday night. She was angry at herself for allowing herself to be so easily disarmed and began to practice her spells nonverbally.

She hadn’t had much luck but she did manage a shield spell silently. Soon her sweat ran down her arms, stinging her cut hands. The cut along her cheek was nearly healed but red. She thought Regulus might be right and that it wouldn’t scar and if it did it wouldn’t be very noticeable. The words on her hands still made her feel sick but she felt the easiest way to get past that but of trauma was to use them as a reminder that she was not invincible and what she was fighting for. She was attacked because her blood status was unknown therefore that made her dirty and therefore unworthy of attentions from one of their own ranks. What made her angrier than that fact was that McNair’s inflicted injuries on her were more likely a warning for Regulus than for anything against herself.  
Brea sat down leaning against the cool wall of the room, her wand still humming in her hand and whispered “Someday this will all be worth it….”

\---“Miss Fox will you wait after class?” Professor Slughorn asked Brea on the first Potions class of December. She looked up from her potion ingredients at him and blinked in surprise.

“Of course Professor.” She replied full of curiosity. Slughorn hadn’t asked to speak to her alone very often and usually it was just about how impressed he was with her potion work.

Once the class ended and she had all her supplies put away she approached his desk and nodded at Stacy to wait outside the door.

“What can I do for you Professor?” Brea asked in a polite tone when she stood before his desk.

“Miss Fox dear girl over the past four years you have shown exceptional skills and intelligence in not only my classes but your others as well.” Brea ducked her head in shyness, it wasn’t often a professor complimented on the work done for their own classes much less other classes.

“Thank you sir. I was taught from an early age the importance of staying ahead in my studies and setting high goals for myself.”

“Very good upbringing I see then! Well dear girl it’s paid off. I would like to extend an invitation to you. Every so often I gather students who show excellent skill and ambition, for a dinner party. Usually in attendance are former students of mine who have gone onto extreme success!”

Brea felt a warm glow spread through her and she smiled in excitement. It wasn’t the thought of being “collected” as Hermione had called it. It was the thought that she was good enough to be considered. Someone in this time felt she would be a success and this was supremely important for Brea’s confidence.

“Sir it would be an extreme pleasure and honor to attend.” She said with a wide smile. Slughorn gave her the date and time for the dinner which would be actually a Christmas party. It would be held the Saturday before the Holiday break in the evening. There would be dancing so she was encouraged to bring a partner if she wished. Brea skipped out of the classroom and into Stacy who had waited instead of heading to dinner.

“He asked me to join his club!” Brea said with a spin.

Stacy rolled her eyes, “And why is that so great?”

“Well for one it’s nice that my swotty ways are being noticed and appreciated. And second I have never dressed up before. I used to dream of grand parties. All the ladies dressed in the latest dress fashions and the gentlemen dressed in their black and white dress robes. That one dance that makes the whole evening feel like it’s made of pure magic!” Brea said wistfully and dreamy eyed.

“You are such a ridiculous romantic Brea!” Stacy laughed giving her best friend a shove. Brea smiled and shrugged.

“I had a healthy supply of romantic fairytales when I was younger.”

“Makes sense. So do we have to find you a date to this?” Brea sighed

“I honestly don’t want to. The only wizard I would even consider going with isn’t an option. And going with the second wizard who would even be a possibility feels as if I would be using him and even still I haven’t spoken to him since first day of this term. Do you think it would be acceptable to take Sirius? I imagine he would enjoy the opportunity to get up to no good”

Stacy hesitated before answering “That’s a tricky situation Brea but it seems like he is the best choice to go with. I’m still not sure what happened with Guy. He seemed an all right sort.”

“He is! He’s just got some prejudice in him that rubbed me the wrong way.”

By now the two girls had made their way down to the great hall for dinner. Once they sat in their usual spots Brea nodded her head towards Sirius a few seats down. Stacy shrugged in reply then nodded to the silent question on if she should ask Sirius.

"Padfoot!" Hollered Brea and waved him over when he looked up. Brea received a few glares from girls that fancied themselves in love with the pompous troublemaker, as he left his friends for a moment.

"Yes my favorite mad Fox?" He said once he sat facing her, straddling the bench.

"I need to take someone to Slughorn’s Christmas party and figured you would enjoy the opportunity to cause a bit of mayhem. Only after I've enjoyed the obligatory dance naturally." Sirius was stunned at first then after a glance at his brother who just so happened to be watching curiously.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" He asked in a low voice. Brea frowned.

"Well yes. I'd go alone but I've never danced before and no one’s going to ask me themselves. Besides I think of you as a brother. That's what almost brothers do right?" Sirius shoved a hand through his hair impatiently, sometimes forgetting just how naive Brea could be.

"That’s not what I meant. I think of you as a sister and I'm still royally pissed you won't tell me about who hurt you but an almost brother does not take his brothers girl-"

"I'm not his girl Sirius. And even if I was I can't be seen with him. But I got it. I’ll go alone." Brea said sadly and picked at her dinner roll glumly. Sirius groaned and dropped his head into his hands

"Fine one dance then I'm spiking the pumpkin juice with fire whiskey." Brea’s demeanor changed instantly and she gave him an impish grin and tight hug. He swatted her away grumpily. "Wear something pretty." He said before sitting back in his place. This brought Brea to a stop and she turned to Stacy who was watching in amusement.

"I have nothing to wear!" She cried in panic and the delighted laughter from Stacy turned heads.


	9. Matching Making Delights

During the last Dueling club meeting of the year the partners were huddled together, making last minute strategy preparations and going over wand movements. Brea and Regulus sat on opposite sides of a table in the far corner as she read off a list of spells for him to cast against Katy. They were for the most part simple jinxes, and when he saw the list of spells she had for use against Sirius he felt a smile trying to escape. As the duels began everyone gathered to the side of the cleared classroom and cheered their friends, none more so than Brea cheering her fellow Gryffindors.

When it came time for his and Brea’s challenge against Sirius and Katy, Brea was the perfect picture of cool and collected. Her face impassive and hair pulled back in a high ponytail. She had removed her robe so she was left in her white long sleeved uniform shirt under a sweater vest, uniform skirt, black stockings and shoes. When she rolled up her sleeves Regulus thought she was the picture of fierce little fighter, more of a hissing kitten than anything. He noticed she no longer had bandages on but her scars must have been hidden with a glamor charm since he didn’t see them. The thought of seeing them made him sick with guilt.

The four students took their places at the front of the large classroom, Sirius with an arrogant smirk on his handsome face and his partner Katy looked worried and stood slightly behind Sirius. Regulus and Brea stood shoulder to shoulder and they took their stances and bows and immediately Regulus blocked a jelly leg curse Sirius shot at Brea before firing tarantallegra at Katy, and she fell to the floor with a yelp, and Brea summoned the fallen witch’s wand from where it clattered to the floor. Meanwhile Brea deflected a melofors from Sirius and sent a stinging hex which he blocked. However her oppungo jinx caused him to run a short ways to avoid being pecked by the diving birds. His distracted running gave Regulus a wicked idea and he hit Sirius with a trip jinx, Sirius gave a shout as he began to fall but Brea stopped him with leviosa.

Regulus exchanged a nod with Brea and she ended the duel with her last two spells. Her unexpected orbis sent Sirius feet down into the floor up to his chest, the expelliarmus sending his wand flying to Brea’s waiting hand.

The others in the class began to clap and a good chuckle at Sirius face turning red from struggling to stand. Brea’s own face lit into a proud beautiful smile as she brushed some loose hair out of her face. She happily turned to her partner as if she were about to say something but instead her smile fell and the light in her eyes dimmed. So instead of swinging her around in the sweet afterglow of victory as it’s not every day he gets the chance to defeat his older brother at something, Regulus instead had to settle for pretending that he was disgusted to have been her partner, and turned away with a sneer to walk back to his things.

He was putting his robe back on when he heard Sirius say, “Is that what I get for going to that rubbish party with you.” His brother’s voice teasing in good nature. Regulus froze and he felt a surge of jealousy.  
Brea’s laughter was bright and teasing. “It was all in good fun Sirius. I knew you were a challenge so I’ve been working endlessly to outwit you.” Regulus turned enough to watch the exchange from the corner of his eyes and he grit his teeth when his brother carelessly threw an arm around the small shoulders of the shorter witch. Not waiting for the instructor to dismiss the meeting he simply strode out. He had heard enough.

\--The weekend before the Christmas party was to the relief of Brea a Hogsmead weekend. Brea had never been to a party that wasn't her own birthday party and the last one of those she’d had was her eleventh. Seemed eons ago now.

Luckily for her Stacy had plenty of experience and agreed to help her dress shop. They invited Rose but she declined for Torrin was taking her to madam Puddifoots for their first date. Brea was ecstatic for her friend’s new relationship and she felt guilt that she hadn't put more effort into repairing her own relationship with them, main reason for Brea again being stubbornness mixed with shame. She let her fun with them distract her and now she was behind her “saving the world schedule”.

'There will be time for friends later...' She told herself after they left Torrin and Rose to their date.

Even as she drifted from her two friends, Stacy and she just grew closer. Case in point it had been Stacy who had explained the birds and the bees the spring before. Brea had never had the conversation with Hermione, Martha or even Miss Harluff, so when life suddenly caught up to her in the form of her monthly, Stacy was the best candidate to fill the role and explained the ways of life. Even though she still kept much from her best friend, Stacy was the one to turn to when her day went wrong.

"Now then," said Stacy as the two witches stood side by side in Hogsmead, "let’s get started." The first two shops they tried had nothing suitable. The styles more suited to the matronly generation. By the third Brea’s impatience was beginning to show.

"Do they expect to only have customers over the age of sixty to buy this rubbish?" She said as they left the second shop and made to enter the third. Stacy chuckled at her friend’s irritated expression.

"To be sure they are trying to protect our virtue with dresses like those."

"More like they want us locked up as escaped mad wom- Stacy this is it!" On the first rack Brea walked up to in the latest shop was a white creation, a layer of sheer wispy fabric atop a white flowing petticoat. Sleeveless but with wide fabric over the shoulders and a small V neck.

"You need to try this on right now!" demanded Stacy and pushed her to the fitting rooms. The bodice was fitted and the waist cinched with a long wide dark blue satin ribbon. The skirt flowed to just below her knees and when she spun for Stacy it flared out with a swish. She squealed, "You'll take it!" Giving Brea a delighted laugh. The shoes were an easy selection of white satin, a thick high heel and slight platform, a single strap to go around the ankle.

Brea to her frustration the dress and shoes had a heavy price tag forcing her to use some of the money from the Potters family vault. After her first year she allowed her guilt at taking their money to get to her and she began to keep a tally of how much she owed and her dress and shoes were going to set her much further back in their debt than she had originally planned.

'I think I'll see about finding a summer job this year. I’ll be fifteen in two weeks so no reason I couldn't,' she thought as she handed the shop clerk the right amount of coin.

"Have you thought about your hair?" Stacy said as they walked out. Brea thought a moment.

"My hairs not suited enough for some of the styles I've liked. You know swept back and teased for volume? Instead I have a ribbon the same color as the one on my dress. I figure ill tie it back half up."

“That sounds perfect!" Stacy said.

The day was nearing noon and the two girls decided lunch before the walk to the castle was in order. The Hogshead was almost empty so the girls took a table by the front window and ordered some soup and butter beers wandering how Rose and Torrin were doing which got them to arguing over who could tell first the two lovebirds were perfect for each other.

Eventually the witches argued themselves out and Brea got up to find the bathroom leaving Stacy at the table. As she walked past the bathroom door marked for wizards it opened and a quick hand pulled her inside.

Brea recognized Regulus right away but still gave him a set down just for rudely startling her.

"Regulus Arcturious Black! You can't just pull unsuspecting ladies into the men's room." And when she heard the lock click she continued "and lock them in." She looked up at him when he didn't answer and took a step back at his angry expression.

"You need to be more suspecting Brea! What if I had been McNair or Rosier?" He snapped.

"I've had this on you since the door opened," she said smugly once she was able to get past her shock at his anger, and stepped up to him until the tip of her wand jabbed him in the side. He quickly swiped her wand from her hand.

"Are you sure you're better than me at dueling?" He said with a corner of his mouth turned up and she stomped her foot in childish frustration.

"Why do prat Slytherins always do that?" She grumbled and tucked her wand into her cloak after he handed if back. "Now then...what's this all about?" She gestured around. His half smile gone he pushed his hair out of his eyes

"Are you going to Slughorn’s party this Friday?"

"Yes I am! Looking forward to it I've never been -"

"And you’re taking Sirius." He said flatly, interrupting her excited rambling.

"I did ask him and after a- if I might be so bold- rather grand display of pouting he agreed."

“Bloody hell Brea you...you can't go wi-with bloody Sirius!" He said angrily setting both of his hands on a sink and griping it.

"Mind your language Black! And I don't understand. Why not? I don't exactly have gents lined up for me to ask." When Regulus scoffed Brea continued, letting her own anger free. "Look all I want is one normal night of my life. I want to dress up and dance for the first time and if I can't do that with the wizard I want then I’ll just settle for-" Brea forced herself to break off when she saw the flash in his eyes.

Regulus leaned down slightly and said lowly. "Alright then go to the bloody party with him. But don't dance with him. Be prepared to leave after an hour and bring your cloak."

And before Brea could reply he had unlocked the door and left, his cloak snapping with his departure. In a bit of a daze Brea went back to the table, her need to use the lavatory forgotten.

"Was that Black I saw leaving?" Stacy hissed quietly. Brea only shrugged still lost in thought.

‘Why am I breathing so hard…I feel like-.’ Stacy broke in again with

"Then what took so long?" That's when Brea realized she had forgotten to use the lavatory. She let her head fall on the table with a thump.

“I hardly know anymore... Let’s go to the common room. Want to teach me to dance?”

Stacy grinned “I’ve been dying to!

\--The dark scowl on Regulus face told other students to stay out of his way. He was walking down the main Hogsmead street intent on going back to the castle. Anthony saw him pass from a shop he was in and ran out to catch him.

“I have been searching for you for over an hour Black! Where have you been we were supposed to-“Regulus turned sharply to Anthony,

“She’s taking Sirius to that rubbish Slughorn Christmas party!” he cried angrily. Anthony sighed knowing where this was going and shoved his hands in his slack pockets.

“Regulus why do you care? She’s an arrogant Gryffindor whose more than likely not a pureblood. She nothing but trouble to you!”

“I don’t know! She’s just...there’s this…argh! Sometimes I feel as if there’s this pull forcing me toward her.” Regulus growled in frustration and continued to stomp away Anthony matching his stride and continued to make his point.

“What do you really know of her Regulus? She shows up out of nowhere on your balcony, has very odd behavior, no family. All she has is a reputation as a know it all. The only friend she seems to have anymore is that insane Euna. Is it because she’s a problem that needs to be fixed? Are you trying to recruit her to the cause-“

“I would never bring her into something so destructive. I know you don’t uphold those beliefs and neither do I. I’m simply going along with it until I’m of age and they can’t touch me anymore. Until I can fight back.” He said fiercely.

“That’s a real swell plan, but you know you put yourself in danger showing any sign of softness for that girl. You know what happened to her was a message sent to you.”  
Regulus nodded. “Yea and I got it.” He said quietly and the two lapsed into silence.

‘Mcnair’s message may have been received but I’ll be damned if ill allow her to dance with my bloody brother.’ Regulus thought. He had a plan.

\--The week before the Christmas party was a flurry of exams and last second lectures, students passing out gifts to their friends, and going through their daily deliveries of Christmas letters from family members. Stacy and Rose were preparing to go home for the holidays leaving Brea for the fourth year alone on her birthday and for Christmas. As the two witches packed Brea waltzed around the dorm room in practice for the party that night.

Stacy over the course of the week had taught Brea a couple of waltzes and she had caught on amazingly fast and loved the feeling brought on by dancing, as if she were floating.

“Don’t you think it’s time to get ready?” Stacy asked from her bed where she was throwing shoes into her trunk.

“It doesn’t start for four hours!” Brea said in confusion.

Rose said from her own bed, “Well you are running behind then!”

Brea looked at her friends in wide eyed bewilderment, “Does it really take four hours to get ready?”

“Yes! And usually longer! So you better go get in the shower right away!” Stacy cried out and gave Brea a little push to the bathroom.

Four hours and fifteen minutes later Brea walked down the stairs from the dorm, a knot of lead in her stomach, telling herself over and over not to trip. She had never been so elaborately dressed before and felt quite nervous on how her friends would react. Would they think she was pretty? Too over done? Brea loved makeup but her day rarely allowed for the time of applying it.

Once she was down in the common room she located Sirius sitting by the fire with James, Peter, and Remus. Sirius gave an appreciative low whistle and James said “Look at you Fox! You clean up decent enough!” Brea blushed and twisted her hands together bashfully. “You look so nice!” came from Peter.

“Thank you fellas.” Brea said quietly, basking in their compliments. Not every day did someone take a moment to express them.

“Come on then. Lily asked if she could walk with us.” Sirius said as he went to stand from his favorite spot.

“All right then. Good night to you.” She said to the others and went to follow Sirius out.

“You do look nice Brea.” Torrin said from behind her.

Brea turned back around to find Torrin standing with his ever wild blonde hair, and hands in pockets, with a sheepish smile. It was the first time he had spoken to her about something other than class and Rose since their tense words at the beginning of the term. Brea found a small bit of hope that maybe they could be close friends once more. Both were just so stubborn that it seemed it would take some time before such an achievement.

Brea smiled softly and whispered a quick thank you before making her exit from the common room.  
Feeling beyond nervous and not completely sure what to do with her now restless hands so Brea wrapped her arms about her waist, and walked to Sirius side. The two met up with Lily who looked stunning with her red hair parted down the middle, and her dress of flower print cut with long sleeves and the skirt just above her knees, her shoes were of the same style with her heel a little higher than Brea’s own.  
Sirius and Lily chatted companionably and occasionally Brea gave her input trying to keep from stuttering. She wasn’t entirely certain on why she was so nervous. Sure if she had fancied Sirius she would have dropped at the sight he made in black dress robes. His hair was long dark and wavy, falling to below his ears. He was tall and fit and any girl would fancy him. But Brea simply saw him as a brotherly prat and she was suddenly reminded of his fate if she didn’t stop this war. Brea pushed down her nervousness and pulled forth her determination.

This had nothing with defeating Voldemort but it was proof that she was really here. Others knew she was here. She was changing things. She deserved a night of merriment.

Outside of Slughorn’s apartments Sirius held Brea back as Lily went inside. “You really look pretty Brea.” He said in a moment of seriousness.

Brea grinned, happy for another compliment to be showered on her. “Thank you Sirius. You could have done better though.” She said slyly.

“Oi! Don’t be cheeky Fox. Now let’s go cause trouble.” Sirius went to ruffle Brea’s hair and she had to swat his hand back several times. Brea felt her nervousness melt away in their moment of childish fun.  
They were greeted by Professor Slughorn who was ecstatic to see Brea and that dimmed only bit when he saw Sirius beside her. “And I see you’ve brought Mr. Black. I trust you will be following all of the rules so everyone can enjoy the party?”

Sirius threw on a gracious grin and bowed low. “Of course professor. I’ve come as a friend of our dear studious Miss Fox.”

“Of course of course. Go on dear girl and mingle. There are many great minds in this room tonight. Never hurts to make a new acquaintance or two.”

Brea smiled “Thank you sir. Come on Black lets go find Lily.” She grabbed the sleeve on his robe and pulled him after her.

There were surprisingly quite a few students and by the looks even a few former students in attendance. The evening was early and several couples danced to cheery Christmas music while most mingled by the food and drink tables. Brea was entranced by the glow of candles on the Christmas decorations. The feel of winter in the air bringing ease to Brea. She spotted Lily after a moment chatting with an older witch and Lily waved them over when she spotted Brea and Sirius making their approach.

“Oh Lily isn’t it wonderful?” Brea asked in a breathy voice as she looked around. “Oh look there’s Severus talking with what looks to be Libatious Borage! Oh I hope it’s about an internship. He would do wonderful with the potions master.” Brea gushed. When Sirius scoffed she elbowed him in the side.

“I have been encouraging him to apply for internships. We sit our O.W.L.s this year and I expect Severus will score even higher than me on the potions test.” Lily replied.

“He’s looking very well isn’t he?” Brea said noticing that his hair was clean and while his robes didn’t look brand new they fit him well.

“Brea look isn’t that Rayna Darcy? A Ravenclaw in your year?” Lily asked nodding her head to the opposite side of the room. Brea craned her head to get a look. She spotted Rayna Darcy a fourth year Ravenclaw sitting on a sofa in a pretty red dress. Her hair was a pretty shade of dark brown and in feathered layers, with pretty eyes of brown. What must have caught Lily’s attention was the direction of Rayna’s eyes. She was shyly following Severus every move. Poorly hidden adoration in them.

“Oh Lily! I think Rayna fancies him!” she whispered in excitement. Sirius scoffed again and this time both girls elbowed him in the side. “Oi!” he yelped but the girls ignored him. “She’s a brilliant musician. Professor Flitwick is always going on about what a wonderful voice she has. Must be why she was invited along.” Brea told Lily in a quiet voice.

“She’s perfect. I’ve never played match maker before Lily how do we go about this.” Brea’s voice full of excitement that maybe this is the turning point for Severus life.

“The easiest way in this situation is to get them to dance. I’ll go up to him and tell him that Sirius made –“

“Hey I didn’t ask to be a part of this hen party!” Sirius cry interrupted Lily’s plan making.

“Shush Black, go on Lily.” Brea said giving Sirius a pinch on the arm.

“Okay, so Sirius made the comment that he didn’t think Severus would be able to get a girl other than myself to dance with him.”

Brea caught on and continued, “During this Sirius you need to be looking at Rayna as if you are about to ask her to dance. Severus’s intense completely understandable dislike of you will spur him to accept the challenge, he really cannot resist one after all, and he will sweep in and rescue the damsel from Sirius rakish advances. It’s settled. Ready?” Lily nodded and set off towards Severus.

Before Sirius went to do his part he said, “After this are we dancing? I really want to get this party going.” He said and she saw the silver flask in his robe pocket. Brea rolled her eyes.

“No after this you are free to do whatever you want.” Sirius eyes moved to the door before he looked back at her. “Good because I did not fancy getting into a fight over a bird I don’t even want to shag.”

Brea’s innocent eyes nearly popped out of her skull at his crude statement. “Sirius! You-what-you- you can’t say stuff like that! Shagging indeed. You just turned sixteen! You can’t be doing you know… that!” Sirius just laughed and walked away to play his part, albeit reluctantly. Brea fanned her red face watching the scene unfold before her.

Lily had just finished talking to Severus and he was glaring at Sirius and then his eyes moved to Rayna who was sadly looking from Lily to Severus. ‘The poor dear believes they have something going on-oh there he goes!’ Right according to the plan Severus strode across to the room and bent down to ask if she wanted to dance. Brea couldn’t hear the words spoken but she imagined them and then there was the beautiful smile on Rayna’s face as she stood and set her hand in his.

Brea moved away from the tables and leaned on a pillar, sipping her drink, and humming to the Christmas carols very content with how her first foray into an elegant social setting was going. She saw Sirius expertly pour fire whisky into the punch bowl and she shook her head chuckling as he handed a stodgy old wizard a cup.

Her happiness slipped a bit when she saw Regulus finally. He was presently by the door posing stiffly with Professor Slughorn for an awkward looking picture. Brea felt the butterflies begin to create a storm in her stomach as she looked at him. His dress robes were well tailored and fit him perfectly. They were similar to Sirius only Regulus had a shiny black waistcoat on. Black hair falling into his silver eyes, an arrogantly bored expression on his face. For a boy of fifteen he was as tall as Slughorn and he had lost some of the knobby skinny look from previous years.

When Slughorn finally had the perfect picture of the Slytherin seeker who hadn’t lost a snitch in the three years of playing, he allowed Regulus to make his way to the other guests. Brea watched from her pillar as he stood on the opposite side of the room striking up a conversation with a short plump young man that Brea did not recognize. Brea was beginning to wonder if he had noticed her yet when she saw his eyes meet hers for a brief moment before looking at the door. Taking that as a sign to leave she set down her drink and slipped over to Lily who was now talking with both Severus and Rayna.

“Hello Rayna! You look perfectly stunning.” She said and the girl blushed

“Thank you.” Rayna said in a sweet voice.

“Severus you were positively dashing as the two of you danced. Lovely indeed.” His initial glare softened and he even gave Brea a small smile. She sent Lily a secret smile when he ever so slightly moved closer to Rayna’s side. “Lily I’m going to the bathroom. I’ll find you or Sirius later.”

“Ok see you in a bit.” Lily said before asking Rayna about any musician aspiration she might have. Brea then weaved her way towards the door. A young man with striking white hair and a haughty expression stood in her way coolly looking around the room.

“Excuse me sir.” She said in a quiet voice the niggling at the back of her mind finding him familiar. He looked down at Brea and gave her a sickly charming smile before moving to the side.

“As you wish dear girl. And may I say that is a lovely necklace. Goblin made. Unique. Heirloom perhaps?” He said in a calculating tone and using a cane to move the crystal on her necklace over. Brea looked him in the eye and touched the necklace from Martha nearly five years ago.

“Yes it is.” She said with a sad smile.

He nodded, “You best keep it close then. Looks important.” He said before walking away as Professor Slughorn was waving to him.

Brea watched the handsome man walk away for a moment trying to place him before she gave up and left the room and down to an alcove at the end of the hallway. On either side of the alcove were a suit of armor and in one of them Brea had stashed her little white bag that she usually had on but felt would be out of place in such a formal setting. She whipped out her cloak from Hermione and tied it on with the hood covering her head. The warmth of the cloak blocked out the bone deep cold of winter in the dungeons and she sat in the shadows to wait.  
Telling herself ‘It’s only Regulus, no sense in being nervous.’ But she was anyways.

\--Regulus saw Brea across the room the moment he stepped inside. He only had a moments glance before he was intercepted by Slughorn. The vision she made had him catch his breath. Her white dress suited her smaller height, the ribbon and skirt accented her small waist. Her pale hair laid on her shoulders and a blue ribbon held her hair back from her face. The shoes showed the long lines in her calves and ankles. Her cheeks were pink and her eyes laughing as she and the Evans girl both elbowed his brother for something idiotic he had said, Regulus was sure.

“Regulus! Ecstatic you could make it come in come in let me get a Christmas photo of you eh?” Regulus was pulled over to the side, interrupting his praiseful gaze on Brea.

Slughorn was in the middle of telling Regulus which way to pose when he heard Brea cry out “Sirius!” and he couldn’t resist the instinct to look at her. She had a shocked expression before she whispered something to Sirius which made him laugh before walking away from her. ‘What the bloody hell is going on over there.’ He wondered irritably, his mood dropping. Slughorn drew him back from his thoughts and he ended up in a terribly awkward pose with Slughorn’s arm around his shoulders and Regulus leaning away for some space.

When he was finally free he moved to the side of the room next to a random wizard who looked somewhat familiar. He opened a conversation about how the wizard knew Slughorn fighting with his entire being not to look at Brea. He knew there were Death Eaters in attendance. In fact he saw Lucius Malfoy had just entered and he also knew he would have to converse with him. Regulus only thought to get Brea out of the room. He took a breath and looked at Brea. She was watching him at that moment and he silently told her it was time to leave with a movement of his eyes towards the door and he immediately felt better as she began to follow his lead. She stopped a moment to talk to Snape, Evans and the girl in his and Brea’s year he knew as Darcy.

His stomach dropped when he saw Lucius had not moved from the doorway yet and Brea was now approaching the young Death Eater. ‘Does the girl not know a Slytherin fool when she sees one!’ he thought.  
He tried not to stare are at the interaction but he couldn’t help the flinch as Lucius used his cane to touch her necklace. When their exchange was finally over Regulus couldn’t let go of the fear he was feeling at the thought of Brea being brought to the attention of such dangerous wizards again.

Lucius briefly made his greetings to Slughorn and then made his way around the room until he reached Regulus. The little man who had been going on about something boring said a hasty greeting before making his retreat to the snack table.

“There you are Black. I trust your studies are going well.”

“Yes they are. And the wedding preparations?”

“On schedule. Narcissa has a hoard of relatives and elves to help and it’s going quite well.” Regulus nodded and waited for Lucius to say what he actually came to say. He didn’t have to wait long. “I hear there was a misunderstanding earlier in the year.” Malfoy said in a cool tone.

“Was there? Anyone I know?” Regulus replied, hoping his tone was bored.

“There seemed to be a bird who didn’t understand her place. How thankful McNair was there to teach her of her error.”

Regulus felt anger pooling inside of him and he grit his teeth. However he managed to keep his voice calm and filled with arrogance, “Ah yes. Wish I had been there for it. Flint unfortunately kept us late for practice during that delightful event. I had a spell or two I could have used some practice on.”

Lucius nodded and seemed satisfied with the answer. “Let’s just hope the message sent, stayed.”

“Couldn’t agree more.” And Regulus picked a glass up in a salute, wicked grin in place.

“Tell me what you think of Snape.” Lucius went on to a new subject, causing frustration to Regulus. Brea had been waiting for ten minutes now and Regulus was losing patience.

“He’s an alright sort. Mad about potions. Creative with charms. He’s practiced some dark arts.” Regulus said with a shrug. “Do you believe he’s recruit-able?”

“I couldn’t say for certain. I believe he can be useful but to be fully recruited….time would only tell with that. Half-blood and all that.”

Lucius nodded. “See what you can do.” And without further word to anyone in the room he left.

‘Merlin I hope Brea thought to hide…’ After waiting as long as he could stand which wasn’t more than a moment after Lucius closed the door Regulus left as well.


	10. Waltzing to the Carols

A first look around told Regulus no one was in the hallway and he wasn’t sure if he should be wary or relieved. He noticed the alcove at the end of the hallway and quickly strode down to it. Quietly he looked around the corner and sighed in relief when he saw Brea seated in the shadows of the alcove. She was sitting with her knees drawn up hiding them within her dark blue cloak.

“Brea...” He said quietly. She reached her hands up and quickly pulled the hood of her cloak back some and peeked out at him with a grin.

“You certainly took your time!” She whispered a bit loudly. Regulus smiled back then quickly leant forward and grabbed her wrist, she looked at him in surprise but he only turned his smile into a half grin, then he took off running, pulling her along behind him. Brea held tightly onto her billowing cloak with her free hand was they ran through corridors and staircases. She had no idea where he was leading her but the bit of breathless laughter that escaped, echoing in the empty castle, told her she didn’t care in this rare carefree moment.  
When he pulled her outside into the snow Brea stopped short. “Regulus I can’t walk through snow in these shoes!” She hissed and Regulus rolled his eyes. Before she could do more than give a startled yelp he turned around.

“Climb on! I saw a couple of muggles do this from my bedroom window once.”

Brea snorted unladylike, “You, Regulus Black, want to give a piggy back ride.”

He looked over his shoulder with impatience. “Is that what it’s called? Curious name. And yes I would….sometime before we are discovered would be just perfect.” He said with blatant sarcasm.

Brea gave an annoyed “tch” but walked up to his back. Slowly she lifted her arms and balanced on the toes of her shoes as best as she could. She wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered in his ear. “I’m going to jump on the count of three. And in these shoes you had better catch me Black,” to which he muttered “Just do the bloody count sometime today Fox.”

After she did her count she awkwardly jumped as high as she could and swung her legs around his hips and felt his hands catch the back of her knees. They stood there a moment each trying to get used to the feeling.

Brea hadn’t been given a piggy back since…. Well since the time before. She admitted to herself that she had missed the feeling. The wonderful feeling of someone warm and strong holding her above for the world to see, for the wind to push through her hair. But this time was distinctly different. Different in a teenage wonderland way. “In a dress this is a rather uh compromising situation Black.” Brea whispered.

Regulus cleared his throat, “Is it? I uh hadn’t noticed.” The lie sounded obviously fake even to his own ears. He was refusing to let himself think about everything just waiting to be thought, which was currently trying to run through his mind, said task being easier said than done. He was a fifteen year old wizard with the witch he quite fancied despite knowing how unwise it was, currently with her arms wrapped around his neck, legs of soft skin on his hips, in a beautiful dress, her chest press- ‘Dammit Black not this now.' He scolded himself and cleared his throat. "Hold tight." He said in a thick voice and he felt her tighten her arms and legs. He held back a groan and they left the courtyard at a slow walk her long cloak whipping in the cold wind, they disappeared from the glowing lamps of the castle entry into the cold winter night.

Brea spent a moment adjusting to the feeling of hands in places where hands usually were not, it was an interesting feeling. The prim and proper part of Brea told her to move his hands immediately before he looked more into this than she was ready and willing for. The other part that was drawn to Regulus, the part that worried sick over his future, and daydreamed of him, enjoyed the grip and made her think of, well she wasn't really sure what it made her think of, just that it felt nice. She sat her chin on his shoulder.

"So where is this adventure going?" She asked.

"Shhh it's a surprise" he replied.

"But I don't like surprises!" She cried. “I like a well-"

"You’ll like this. What did Malfoy say to you?" He asked changing the subject.

"Malfoy...Draco Malfoys father! Should have realized…" She whispered aloud, before slapping a hand over mouth.

"What?" Regulus asked not sure what he had heard her whisper.

"Uh he was admiring my necklace." Regulus was silent so Brea continued, "Charming fellow he was. And really handsome. Could have been royalty with as elegantly he held himself." Brea rambled on.

"How can you find him attractive!? He’s dangerous Brea!"

"A little danger never hurt."

“It hurt you."

"That’s because I made an idiotic mistake. Oh come on Regulus, deep down Lucius knows what matters. Family and love." She said smartly.

"How do you know?" Brea pulled his chin till he looked back over his shoulder at her, she gave a cheeky grin and tapped her nose. Regulus gave her a glare before finishing the walk in stony silence.  
When he stopped Brea gasped in delight when she saw where he had brought her. "The Fox Hole!" She cried as he stepped through the entry. He let go of her legs and she slid off his back and looked around in wonder. There were candles lit all around the garden. Green red and silver ribbons were woven through tree branches and swayed in the gentle breeze. In the center stood a lovely evergreen tree decorated, and a record player played lovely Christmas carols. Brea was in love with it all.

"What did you call this place?" Regales asked, trying to suppress his laughter.

"Le Fox Hole" she said not knowing how absurd it truly was.

This time he did laugh. Obnoxiously. "That’s the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."

Brea frowned. "Well I don't hear you thinking of anything better or more creative.” She snapped with her hands on her hips.

Regulus held his hands up in surrender. "The uh Fox Hole it is then. Now then I didn't do all this to argue about a name for this place. I did it because you for one deserve a decent dance partner. Sirius is rubbish and mum always had a terrible time getting him to show up for dance classes. Another because we deserve a moment where we will not have to worry if someone saw me do this." And he unclasped her cloak, tossed it on a stone bench. He took her hand in his and placed his other on her waist.

She caught on immediately and with a wide smile she put her free hand on his shoulder. Her laughter filled the air as he led her into a fast stepping waltz around the Christmas tree. He danced impressively well and kept her in step when she missed one.

"Stacy has been giving me lessons all week. The first hour in the shoes I thought I'd never walk again."

In an arrogant voice he said, "I’ll tell you this. I spent awhile worrying about my toes when I saw those shoes you're wearing." She narrowed her eyes and playfully stepped on his foot. Instead of yelping in pain like she wanted, he laughed, simply enjoying her spirit. He slowed their dance till they were barely swaying he moved both hands to her waist and she moved her free hand to his shoulder.

"You look beautiful tonight." Her eyes widened in surprise, still unused to compliments and here she had had more in one night than her whole life. Regulus felt a spark of panic, mistaking her surprise as he had said offended the witch. "Uh I mean you always look- but tonight-" He stammered causing Brea to laugh delightfully.

"Thank you Regulus. You cut a very dashing fellow yourself."

"Of course I do. Rule one of House of Black. Always dress exceptionally well. We must send all the witches into a titter." Mock arrogance clear on his face.

"Do not tell me you were actually told that!" Brea burst out.

Some of the laughter left his eyes. "You would think coming from a privileged family would give you more choices. Not so. I was taught from a young age the importance of appearance."

Brea felt some guilt at bringing his mood down and was a bit desperate to get him to smile so she tried to make light of it. "I must say I'm pleased the lesson stuck with you. Sirius didn't even tuck his shirt in! When a lady puts in four hours of effort, it's nice if the gentleman puts in his own spot of effort." Regulus smiled and didn't reply, just continued to lead her in a slow dance.

After a moment he asked quietly, "Brea will you tell me about your childhood?"

She met his eyes and saw the serious curiosity in them. "I'll do my best." She stepped closer to him and laid her head on his shoulder. "I never had any parents. I don't know their names or how they died or if they are actually alive. Not even sure Fox is my real last name." Regulus tightened his arms around her in comfort. "But there was a witch and two wizards who thought I was special and that I needed to be kept safe so I grew up on a little farm in the middle of nowhere. Martha, an old secluded witch raised me. Until I left to come to Hogwarts I had only ever known four people. Martha and the trio that found me. They were my life… all I had ever needed."

"Merlin Brea…" Regulus breathed out.

"It’s alright, I had a happy time. I did my studies and I was kept busy with chores and the farm animals. I had stories of all kinds. The hard part came when I learned that reality is different from my fairy tales. Before I was to come to Hogwarts they told me about all the evil they had tried to protect me from. Can you imagine for eleven years believing that the heroes and heroines always win and never loose only to learn that they only sometimes win and they end up losing everyone in the process."

"I can't imagine." He said softly. "What happened next?"

Here Brea hesitated. She didn't want to lie to him but knowing she put them at risk if she told him the truth, so instead she said, "I lost them all. I can't tell you how yet. If Voldemort or someone loyal to him, were to use occlumency on you then we would be lost. So now I'm alone… and… and spend my birthdays and Christmas alone, I spend my summers in a small little orphanage practically a stranger to the other children, and I throw myself into books and lessons and fighting practice. Waiting. Biding my time till I atlast turn the next corner and accomplish something that will make it all worthwhile." She rambled on fiercely.

Regulus was completely at a loss on what one would say following such an admission. Not even sure he comprehended what the witch even meant. Instead he went to safer territory. "Mm when is your birthday?"

"December twenty-first.”

“Ah winter solstice. Ought to have guessed.”

“Whens yours?”

“September twelfth.”

“Regulus you should have told me! I would have gotten you a gift.” She cried in admonishment.

“Ah forget it. You can pay me back.” He said with a chuckle and Brea moved from his arms to sit on the bench. “I’m sorry you have to be alone for your birthday.” He said taking the seat beside her.

She looked up at the stars, “I hardly notice it now.”

“You should never be alone.”

Brea was moved by his words and she touch her crystal necklace and thought of all the people waiting for their lives to begin.

Looking up at his profile she said, “I’m never alone.” Brea looked back at the stars, beginning to wonder the time. She had truly enjoyed her moment alone with Regulus, truly touched by the effort he had put into showing he felt she was special. Yet Brea was beginning to feel… odd. As if she shouldn’t be here with Regulus. Not in a “we might be caught and tortured way.” But in the feeling of one’s soul pulling them in a different direction. Brea looked to where the sun would rise, in the East, the feeling that it was time to leave deepening. ‘Sirius and Lily must have been back at the tower hours ago. I hope they haven’t worried about me.’ She thought to herself. Regulus set an arm around her shoulders and held her to him. Any thoughts about Sirius and Lily, and the general feeling of being in the wrong place, went out of her mind.

“What do you plan for after Hogwarts?” She asked Regulus.

He shrugged. “Not really sure. Now that Sirius was been disowned I’m expected to take his place under father. Take a comfortable Ministry job.”

“What about what you want to do though?”

Regulus hesitated a moment. Unsure about voicing something he had only ever said a loud to Anthony. “My first instinct is to get away from here the moment I’m seventeen. Take my things and go somewhere I can’t be found.” When she looked up at him he shrugged. “The Slytherin in me. But if I were to stay…I kind of…don’t laugh ok?” He asked shyly and Brea took his hand as agreement. “I enjoy Quidditch, I absolutely love to fly. The feeling of free falling and trusting my relationship with my broom…yet to experience anything like it.”

“So you want to play professionally?” Brea asked curiously.

He shook his head and took another moment to answer. “No while that sounds amazing and I’m confident I could get onto any team I wanted-” She pushed his shoulder in admonishment for his arrogance “-Oi now! I don’t fancy the freedom I would lose. There’s no telling where I would be and the scheduled practices and the fan base and media attention…no thanks.”

“So then what is it you would rather do then?”

“I uh…I rather want to open a Quidditch camp.” He said quietly, worried she would find the idea ridiculous. But when her eyes lit up he immediately felt secure in talking about his dream.

“You want to teach young wizards and witches Quidditch! Regulus that’s the most brilliant idea I’ve ever heard!” She cried in excitement.

He looked at her bashfully. “You don’t think it’s a stupid idea?”

“I don’t! And you would be marvelous at it!”

“That means a lot that you believe it’s suitable. I haven’t told my parents. I think it’s something I’ll just have to do on my own.”

“Well I’ll be there for you.” Her words seemed to echo and the hollow uncertainty of such a promise made Brea uncomfortable. She immediately regretted saying such a thing but plastered a fake smile to cover her awkwardness.

Regulus nodded and smiled down at her. “What about you. What dreams do you have?”

Brea was silent and frowning. “That’s a difficult question for me to answer.” She finally spoke up.

“How so?”

“Well…if you had asked me when I was ten, it was that I was going to grow old on my little farm with Martha, and taking care of the chickens, fishing in the lake, and reading my books.”

“And now?”

“I don’t know how to look past tomorrow. I have something to do first.”

“Something to do before planning a future?”

“Yes.” Came her abrupt answer. She was feeling increasingly uneasy talking about her future.

“Ok…I suppose this something to do first is another one of those things I can’t know about yet?”

“Yep.”

“Alright. So let’s say you are an ordinary witch and this is an ordinary night. What would an ordinary witch like to do once she finished school?” Brea smiled at his way around her previous answer.

“Hmmm an ordinary witch huh? Well there are many things. She wants to explore the ocean, following the sun wherever he wants to go that day. And she has always wanted to be buried in the sand. She wants a book from every continent and a flower from every season. Then after all that, an ordinary witch would probably like to run for Minister of Magic.” Brea was struck suddenly with how nearly honest she was. She didn’t care for the Minister of Magic bit, which was just silly rubbish. The rest however, especially following the Sun wherever he led her was all incredibly accurate. Brea wanted to think more about her new realization but this wasn’t the time nor the place.

Regulus chuckled. “This ordinary witch doesn’t sound ordinary at all. I figured she would have done something like Auror training. She’s very good at taking down wizards twice her size.” He said thinking about the duel with Sirius and Katy.

Brea shrugged and twisted her hands in the skirt of her dress. “I enjoy the excitement and quick thinking dueling has but…chasing down dark wizards isn’t something I would want to do. I want a family, the biggest, nosiest family possible, and bringing them into that kind of danger is not what I have in mind.”

Regulus tightened his arm around her shoulders. “Well you are brilliant at it and while you may not go into it for a career I think you should be sure to keep in practice. Now come on, I want a last dance.” She smiled and he helped her stand before bringing her into a lively dance. Both regretful that it would be the last but hoping that the future held more to come.

Once the dance was over and all the candles snuffed out Brea was once again on his back. He held the backs of her knees and she held on with one arm around his neck. Her cheek laid on the back of his shoulder and she hummed Christmas carols in his ear while playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Thank you for this Regulus. I couldn’t have asked for a better night.” She said sleepily.

He nodded his head, “It was my pleasure.” She smiled and continued her humming. She had expected him to let her down at the castle entrance to go their separate ways but he surprised her yet again by carrying her up to her tower. Once they were a little ways from the Fat Lady portrait he let her slide down till she was standing on her own and stepped back preparing to say goodnight.

He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to kiss her. He wanted too but he wasn’t sure if she would want to kiss him. Hell Regulus didn’t even know if she fancied him. Sometimes the way she looked at him made him hope she did but then sometimes she seemed oblivious and innocent. His hands began to sweat and he shoved them in his pockets, feeling awkwardly nervous. He cleared his throat when she looked like she wanted to say something but instead she stepped up to him.

“I suppose this is-” He broke off as she grabbed the opening of his robes and pulled him down as she leaned up. The force caused them to bump noses awkwardly before their lips met but neither noticed.

Their first kiss was quick and hard and filled with nervous first kiss ever emotion. It was brief but they afterward stood with their foreheads touching, eyes closed. His hands had somehow moved to her shoulders and they moved to her back to hold her to him in a tight embrace. Neither spoke again, both unsure about what one was supposed to say after a first kiss, he instead stepped back, she gave a shaky smile and turned to leave.

Brea ignored the Fat Lady’s scolding about the late hour. Apparently it was after three am, and gave the password. Before stepping through she gave Regulus an impulsive cheeky grin.

Regulus turned with a jaunty click of his heel and made his way towards the dungeons. He should have been worried about being caught out so late after curfew, or about nosy Slithering, but in that moment he had no cares in the world. Voldemort himself could have been warming his toes by the common room fire and Regulus would have just walked on by with the enormous smile on his face, and the spring in his step. He no longer had to wonder if Brea Fox fancied him. He went to bed with a smile and dreamed wonderfully lovesick dreams of a playful white fox chasing butterflies.

\--While Regulus was skipping his way back to the dungeons, Brea was slipping her shoes off in the entry way before quietly making her way towards the girls dorm stairs. At first glance no one was in the common room but it wasn’t until she was more than halfway to the stairs that she heard a low voice. “Late night stroll?” Came from a high back chair in front of the fire. Sirius’ favorite chair.

Brea sighed and hung her head when she heard the anger in Sirius voice. She made her way over to the fire and sat down heavily in the couch perpendicular to his chair, slouched down and staring at the floor.

“Brea. Where. Were. You.” He said in a dangerous tone. Brea snapped her head up to glare at him, shame bringing out her defensiveness.

“What business is it of yours?”

“Dammit Brea. Do you have any idea how worried I have been?”

“Why would you be worried Sirius?” She asked in exasperation.

“I know how you got those scars on your hands. Brea I’m not an idiot.” He said in a patronizing voice.

“I was never in any danger... tonight.”

“You were with Regulus weren’t you?” At her silence he angrily began to pace. “This is not good Fox. If they find out you-“

“How could they possibly find out? We were careful.”

“You better hope you were. McNair and that bunch didn’t carve you up as a warning to you.” She looked down at her hands as she released the glamour from them. The scars were pink and jagged but obvious to what they read.

“I know I’m not good enough. Especially in their eyes.” She said quietly. “But this,” She waved her hand towards the entry way, “This is more than just us. And we were careful.” Sirius sat back down with a huff, running his hands over his face.

“Did you at least get your dance?”

“Yes I did. He said he was saving me from your rubbish dancing.”

Sirius barked a shout of laughter was certainly welcome after his anger. Brea truly did not enjoy upsetting one of her closest friends.

“I was suspicious of how easily you let me become distracted. You owe Lily an apology by the way. She worried sick. Might have gotten your other friends worked up too.”

Brea nodded looking ashamed.

“Speaking of…the Stacy bird…think she’s interested.” Brea tilted her head to the side as she realized Sirius was showing interest in her best friend, and smirked. “Sad for you Padfoot, but she’s taken. She just doesn’t know it yet.”

Sirius thought for a moment before remembering the Warwick bloke she’s always fighting with. “What the bloody hell is it with you Gryffindors birds and Slytherin blokes?”

Brea grinned, and shrugged. “We Gryffindor “birds” are smart and enjoy the challenge of keeping a Slytherin bloke in line I suppose .” Sirius laughed again letting his head fall back to rest on his chair and Brea grew quietly thoughtful. “Thank you Sirius.” He looked over at her in surprise at her serious tone. “I don’t have many people to watch over me. Surprisingly I miss it immensely. And for worrying about Regulus. I know he misses you terribly. He may seem like he has everything worked out but…he needs us. And you may be a prat on how you go about it sometimes but I couldn’t ask for a better brother.” She said with a soft smile.

Sirius smiled back and walked behind her leaning down to kiss the top of her head. “Good night Mad Fox.”

“Goodnight Padfoot the Prat.” His laughter echoed from the stairs as he went up to his dorm room and Brea went to hers. She was happy the girls were asleep and not waiting up for her. When she was finally free of her dress, and the makeup of the night washed away she finally had a moment to bask in the fact that she, Brea Alara Fox, just less than half an hour ago had had her first kiss. And with Regulus at that. Brea let herself fall back on her bed with a dreamy sigh from her, and a squeak from Gred. She wasn’t sure how to rate kisses yet, but the intense feeling in her chest told her it was a great first kiss. This led to wondering when it would happen again.

The very early morning sun was beginning to lighten the sky when Brea finally drifted off, thoughts of first kisses melted away to dreaming about the sun and a little red fox doing foolish things like attempting to catch fish from a creek or chase a bird into a tree.

\--When Brea awoke it was late morning and the dorm room was empty. For the moment she simply laid there, warm in her bed, basking in a glow of happiness and sunshine. ‘This is how it’s supposed to be, waking up to beautiful sunshine after a wonderful night,’ she thought with a smile.

She was in the middle of replaying the events of last night when her door burst open and three girls clearly upset girls stormed in. Lily at the front with Stacy and Rose behind her. Lily went straight to her bed and pulled her into a tight hug.

“Thank Merlin you are ok! When you didn’t come back to the party I was so worried! And when I found out you didn’t come here! I nearly went to McGonagall. Sirius said he would take care of it, was the only reason I didn’t! And then Stacy and Rose came and got me just moments ago.” Lily ranted on while Stacy and Rose both sat on the end of the bed still glaring at her.  
“Oh Lily I never meant to make you worry! And I’m sorry to all of you for putting you through that!” Brea apologized, shame on her face.

“Well? Where did you go?”

Brea flickered her eyes from Lily to Stacy and Rose. “You see there’s this wizard… whom I fancy… and apparently he fancies me back.”

“Well that’s great! Why didn’t you just say so!” cried Lily.

Brea sighed and let herself fall back on her pillows. “His family wouldn’t approve which would usually be easy enough to get around. But the people they associate with are an altogether different story.” Brea said sadly.

“Oh…” Lily said. “Oh!” Her eyes widened when she realized who Brea could be talking about. “I take it he swept you away to your own personal party?” Brea blushed and nodded. By now Stacy and Rose had lost their glares and they squealed along with Lily at the thought.

Stacy leaned forward with a sly grin. “Did you snog him?”

Brea blushed harder. “We didn’t exactly snog but I did kiss him and he kissed me back. It was just a little kiss though! Hardly snogging!” She had to raise her voice to be heard over their giggles and comments.

“How did he look afterward?” Rose asked Brea grinned back

“Dazed… and if I may be so bold…relieved and happy. Almost like he was afraid I wouldn’t have wanted to kiss him and when I did…he felt relief.”

“That is the most sickly romantic thing I have ever heard.” Stacy said and Brea threw a pillow at her friend.

“What about you Rose? Have you and Torrin ‘snogged’ any?” Brea asked continuing the long overdue girl talk.

Rose grinned shyly, “He’s gotten pretty good at it. He gets a little handsy and needs a quick set down but otherwise he’s brilliant.” Brea was shocked at how uncharacteristically blunt Rose was about it but let out a bout of laughter. The girls looked at Lily next.

She held up both hands, “Whoa not me. No snogging buddies for me.”

Stacy grinned, “You could have if you wanted. Potter asks you out every day.”

Lily glared, “Potter can eat beetles for all I care, the arrogant toe rag.”

Brea put a comforting hand on the easily riled witches arm, “Don’t worry, someday very soon he will grow up and become the man we all know he can be. He’s just been spoiled by his parents as most single children usually are. Acting like a prat gets him attention at home and since he’s a bloke he can’t understand how foolish behavior will only get him so far.”

“What makes you think I want him to change?”

Brea took a moment to think carefully of her answer. Speaking from her heart she looked at each of her friends. “There are some people we are meant to love. You don’t see it but every time you enter a room your eyes immediately find him and if you watch him he does the same. Even if he doesn’t say a word to you he looks for you in the crowd and the relief in them. The relief in just knowing you are there Lily…that is something that is deeper than just a “because I’m James Potter hear me roar” reaction. That’s… that’s meant to be love.” There was silence as the three girls stared at Brea.

“That was bloody amazing Brea.” Stacy said.

Brea looked at her friend a bit shocked at how wise she had sounded. “I’m not saying it only to her. You each have that “meant to be” Rose has already found hers, you Lily are just around the corner. And Stacy…you will know yours too if you look for him. Won’t be easy though since you are both stubborn arses.”

“Oi! I am not!” Stacy protested.

Instead of arguing with her, Brea turned back to Lily. “Dying to know. How did it go with Severus and Rayna?”

Lily’s grin returned, “It was a success. They really hit it off and spent most the time talking. She really is brilliant. I’m sure if it weren’t for you she’d be first in your year. And she’s just what Severus needs. An

intelligent minded witch. I think she really fancies him a lot.”

Brea sighed dreamily, not caring about the twinge of guilt she had from Lily’s “first in your year” comment. “I’m extremely pleased. There’s a happy ending if I ever saw one.”

\--The next day saw most of the students heading off to their families for the holidays, leaving Brea at the castle alone. Once the castle was at last clear of her friends, Brea went to the Room of Requirement, ready to practice. After several painstaking hours of teaching herself a set of somewhat difficult curses, Brea decided to attempt a patronus again. She closed her eyes, her wand down by her legs. She brought forward her happiest memories. She let the image of Regulus spinning her around a candle lit garden fill her mind.

With happiness filling her she lifted her wand and fiercely said “Expecto patronum!” There to her amazement was a silver wisp coming from her wand before it disappeared. Encouraged Brea tried again, this time the memory of waking the next morning surrounded by warm winter sunshine, the feeling it had given her, filling her mind even more than the kiss had. Content happiness. Getting a better result than before with each try until eventually instead of a silvery shield coming from her wand a playful fox bounded from her wand. Her misty form pranced around the room before she disappeared.

“I did it!” Brea cried happily, the fact that sunshine made her happier than her first kiss escaped the otherwise mentally occupied witch. Only caring for her ever growing list of accomplishment. “A fox…how fitting” she said with a smile.


	11. Sweetwater

Nothing more of notable excitement happened for Brea during the holidays. Unless you count a book with information about various beaches from around the world, received the day after everyone had left. On her birthday. There was no sender address and the only note was written on the inside which simply read “Pick one.” Brea knew immediately who had sent it much to her girlish delight.

So Brea spent her birthday reading the entire book trying to pick the perfect beach to be buried in and falling a bit deeper into making post Hogwarts plans. Try as she might she just couldn’t resist the temptation. The pull of wanting a life outside of dangerous plans and possibly repeated history… Brea wanted… something. And the more she thought about the more she wanted. Days filled with summer, friends, and the Sun. Nights filled with the protection of the Moon, her one true love and dreams of the future. To just ride in the wind as fast as she could trying hard not to get into trouble.

Brea felt such a life was sometimes just at her fingertips. But more often than not she knew it was that impossible distance away.

Realizing such thoughts would send her spiraling quickly, drive her mad, she laid her gift to rest in her bag until such a time when she could allow herself the liberty of her newfound dreams. For now she was alone.

Christmas she had a few presents from her friends, mostly books and sweets, as well as a t-shirt from Sirius of a muggle band. There was however one gift that stood out from the rest. It was a portrait of medium size, a wonderful wintery forest meadow scene painted on. The truly magical part were the three enchanted foxes on the scenery. A white fox, a black fox, and a red fox frolicked around the snow and bushes. Brea fell in love with the painting immediately, watching the playful foxes for hours afterward.

For New Year’s Brea went out to her garden, enjoying her last moments before the new term in languorous relaxation. She transfigured a stone bench into a hammock which she secured to two trees. She laid in it gazing at the stars until midnight when she set off a few of her Weasley Wizbangs wondering what this New Year would bring.

With the New Year Brea found a sense of peace. She was about as happy as she could be given her current situation. She was head of her class and well-liked by the students in her house and most from the other houses- Slytherin not counted. Her professors enjoyed her work and Brea had managed to keep out of detention since the rough start of first term. She went to Slughorn’s dinner parties and enjoyed the conversations and good food.

And to top it off she was in love. With which came the damper on her happiness. She wasn't free to express it. Where in normal situations the wizard would walk his witch to her next class and carry her books. Or hold her hand as they strolled slowly across the castle grounds, sharing private whispers and glances. But Brea was not normal so she was restricted to remembering the one night they had of dancing and a first kiss, a locking of eyes as they passed each other in the halls.

To distract herself Brea worked on her other relationships. She and Stacy spent more time gossiping with Rose and helping her pick outfits for when she had a date with Torrin. As for Torrin, Brea finally sincerely apologized for over reacting and he forgave her on the spot. She went on late night runs to the kitchen with him and helped him fill the prefect’s bathroom completely full of bubbles much to Lily’s frustration and grins from the Marauders.

The last friendship she repaired was with Guy. Near the end of her fourth year, most every student of Hogwarts was busy with last minute studying for their upcoming exams and Brea was no different. She was seated at her favorite table in the library on a late Saturday evening going over a years’ worth of notes. Most of the tables were filled, in fact Regulus, Anthony and the Slytherin girl they usually studied with were two tables over. ‘Augusta Corrigan.’ She thought while studying the girl. Her pale skin was made even paler buy her dark brown hair which was kept in a neat braid. Her eyes were a light brown and her lips perfectly red. She was a pretty girl if only she smiled more. She was sitting next to Regulus while going over her own notes, Warwick sitting with his back to her. Brea sighed as she bent over her books and notes in concentration. She was alone at her table since her three friends had left a while ago, the lure of food too great for them to withstand.

A movement from the side of where she sat caught her attention and she glanced up to see Guy with a lost look on his face as he glanced around at all the full tables, his arms full of heavy books. Brea sighed and sat back.

“You can sit here Guy.” He looked down at her sharply, surprise on his face.

“Are you sure?” he asked to which she answered with a shrug. He sat down his heavy stack of books and took the seat across from her.

“What are you studying?” she asked.

“Potions.” A sound of disgust evident in his tone.

“Well if you need any notes just ask. I have plenty.”

He looked up at her. “Why are you talking to me after nearly a year of silence?” he asked. Brea shrugged again.

“I guess I wanted to apologize to you. You didn’t know you were being a git.” She said with a small smile and he laughed quietly. “I had just had a really rotten start of the year…and what you said was just the last thing I wanted to hear.”

He nodded, “I’m sorry too. I was being a bit prejudice and really I didn’t mean it.” He looked back over his shoulder towards the table Regulus and his friends sat at. “They aren’t all bad.” He said quietly. Brea followed his gaze and saw two sets of eyes staring back at theirs. Regulus was looking at Guy with an impassive expression, and the Slytherin girl Augusta was staring as well. Only her expression was one of hurt which surprised Brea.

She recognized the girls’ expression well. It was the one Rayna had at Slughorn’s Christmas party, when she had watched Lily and Severus talking. A look that spoke of poorly suppressed longing. Brea quickly glanced between Augusta and Guy. He didn’t meet her eyes as he turned back to the table his expression blank. Her own turned to one of excitement as she shoved her books to the side and leaned over the table and whispered.

“You and Augusta fancy each other!” Guy looked up at her slight panic in his eyes and he shook his head but at Brea’s knowing look he let his head fall onto his folded arms. Brea patted his head and asked, “Have you asked her out?”

His voice was muffled, “I did a week ago.”

Brea was clever enough to suspect how that went. “And I take it she said no?” He nodded with his head still in his arms. “Did she say why?”

“Her parents wouldn’t approve.”

“How can she say that? You’re wonderful! Good looking, charming, and intelligent! What else could loving parents wish for their daughter to fall in love with?” Brea cried out indignantly. He looked up with a kind smile and sad eyes.

“Thanks Brea. But you know how those old pureblood high society families are.” At Brea’s confused look he continued, “She’s going to be expected to marry who her family chooses for her. Very few of them get to have a choice as to who they marry. I’m not even saying I was thinking about marrying her…just spending time with her but that is out of the question. She told me that by the start of our fifth year she expects her parents will have an arrangement…” He continued on but Brea was no longer listening.

She thought back to what Regulus had said back in the garden "You would think coming from a privileged family would give you more choices. Not so.” She couldn’t help the glance she gave Regulus, amber eyes touched with fear. ‘His family couldn’t possibly be considering sticking him with someone he does not love… could they?’ She thought as she watched him frowning at his notes.

“Brea…Brea?” She pulled her attention back to Guy. “Are you alright?” he asked, a concerned look on his face.

She shook her head, sadness creeping into the good mood she had had since the New Year. “I’m fine…hard doses of reality are difficult to swallow is all.” He looked back towards the table she had been staring at and gave her a knowing look.

“You know, last year I had fancied myself fancying you.”

She looked surprised and laughed. “That hardly makes a bit of sense!”

He laughed back, “I know. I was angry for some time when I realized I was already too late in your affections. And then I was partnered with Augusta in Divination. And she’s brilliant really and even now after being rejected I can’t be angry with her. She’s a victim of circumstance. Just as you are.” Brea smiled softly and squeezed his hand.

“Don’t give up on her yet. We will all get out happy ending if it’s the last thing I do.” When he smiled back, a bit of hope in his eyes she continued “Now let’s get to studying.”

Brea never noticed the young third year Ravenclaw girl seated to the table next to her own. The girl with short brown hair and glistening bright blue eyes, had heard each word and painfully watched each glance the two had made concerning the two Slytherins.

\--The end of fourth year came quietly and Brea was once again saying goodbye to Hogwarts for the summer. She couldn’t say she was particularly looking forward to her summer months spent alone either in her tiny room, or in the backyard, but she knew she would manage. After all she had plans on finding her first employment.

On the train ride back to Kings Cross Brea made plans to go school supply shopping with Rose and Stacy. Rose would be staying at Torrin’s home the day before leaving for school and Torrin along with Rose and his parents would come by the orphanage to pick Brea up for the train station, as is the tradition.

After hugs farewell on the landing the four went their separate ways, waving goodbye. Immediately upon her arrival at the orphanage and after her welcoming hugs to the younger children as she was now one of the oldest there at fifteen, she began to search the local newspaper for hiring ads. The very next day Brea walked down a couple of blocks and applied for the wanted position as clerk at a little family owned grocery shop. She was hired on the spot and she started moments later learning how to run the register.

Brea took pride in earning her own money for once instead of worrying about whether the Potters would ever notice that someone had been skimming off them the past four years. And the distraction of running before dawn after which working from early in the day till late in the evening was just what she needed. It didn’t keep her from missing Regulus or keep her from fearing the future but it kept her hands busy and she truly enjoyed meeting the muggles who frequented the little store. Her employers, a middle aged man and his wife were kind, if not strict, and they trusted her to take care of her duties after seeing how much work Brea was willing to put in for such a young girl.

After about three weeks into her summer vacation Brea was taking a well-deserved day off. She was laying on her bed reading the light heartfelt book Emma when one of the other children, a little girl of about nine named Laura knocked on her door. Her door was already opened so Brea laid her book on her stomach and waved little Laura inside.

“What can I do for you Lady Laura?” Brea asked and Laura giggled shyly.

“There’s someone here to see you Brea.” Brea frowned. No one ever came to see her and apprehension filled her.

“Did they give a name?”

“Nope! Just said he needed to see you right away.”

“Is it Torrin?”

“Nope! This one’s better looking.” Brea couldn’t help laughing at this and she shooed Laura away.

“Alright I’ll be there in a moment.” Once Laura left Brea stood and straightened her plain collard shirt before leaving her room and heading to the front door of the small orphanage. She yelped in surprise when she saw Regulus standing just inside the doorway, looking as wonderful as she remembered. She could swear he had grown two inches since she last saw him less than a month before. He was dressed in muggle attire of gray plaid pants that must have been in muggle style for the 70s. A shirtsleeve brown collared shirt tucked in. it was obviously a size too small for him. And a blue baseball cap low over his eyes completed his look. In all he looked handsomely ridiculous.

“Regulus!” she hissed and grabbed his hand and roughly pulled him down the hall into her room. She shoved him inside, gently shut the door before pulling out her wand, locking her door and casting a muffalato. She turned to him, surprise and fury evident in the way her hands were on her hips and the glare darkening her amber eyes.

“What are you doing here!” she cried. “And why are you dressed so- so…like that?!” she gestured to his clothing. Now he was glaring back at her.

“Well pardon me for fancying the belief that you might welcome seeing me. And I needed to blend in so I took these from what appeared to be a laundry line. They were just hanging out there for anyone to take.” He said indignantly. Brea’s eyes widened in obvious shock.

“You… you stole from a muggle!”

“What else was I supposed to do? Ask mother to take me shopping?! And I wanted to see you.”

Brea’s expression softened and she sighed. “How did you get here?”

He sat on her bed looking around her room. It was still as plain as the first day she spent in it. Her bed was covered in a plain blue blanket. Her dresser was unadorned with knickknacks and pictures. She didn’t have posters of celebrity crushes covering her walls.

On the walls of his own room he had newspaper clippings of all the horrible things Voldemort was doing, given to him by his father and he pinned them up as expected, waiting for the day he could rip them down and burn them.

“I left mother a note to say I was going to be with Anthony at his cousin’s house who has a Quidditch pitch.”

“Do you think it wise to bring Warwick into something like this? I know he doesn’t approve.” She said softly and sat beside him on her bed.

“Anthony doesn’t believe in all that rubbish. He just doesn’t want anyone he cares about to get hurt for making a stupid mistake.” He was silent for a moment before leaned forward and set his elbows on his knees. “Brea if this was a stupid mistake just tell me and I’ll leave.” He said quietly. Brea smiled and leaned her forehead on his shoulder.

“How long do you have?” She asked quietly. He looked at her a half smile on his lips.

“I won’t be expected until dinner.” Brea peeked at the clock next to her bed and saw it was still midmorning and an idea lit her eyes.

“Perfect we have plenty of time.” She said jumping up and digging through her dresser.

“Time to do what exactly?” He asked cautiously. She pulled out some muggle money.

“First I am taking you shopping. The next time you want to steal muggle clothing talk to me first.” He glanced down at his attire.

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” He cried. Brea laughed and pulled on the sleeve of his shirt.

“This is ridiculous Regulus! And I thought the Noble Blacks were supposed to have taste!” He swatted her hand away and glared at her. “So we are going to get you a few items. It’s summer, which translates to you should be in shorts and flip flops and…” she pulled out a bathing suit from her dresser. It was a bright yellow single piece the chest and bottoms were solid with a knitted flower pattern connecting them at the waist. Regulus eyes widened when she finished her sentence. “We are getting you a swimsuit.” She said with a wicked grin and he gulped.

\--"Remind me once more...why I need....swim shorts?" Regulus asked. He was holding a pair of blue shorts. Brea giggled when she saw how short they were. When she would go swimming with Ron and Harry in the pond, their swim shorts were much longer. The style in this decade was much more revealing and judging by the look on Regulus face he had never worn a pair before.

"Because," she said as she snapped them out of his hands, "If you are going to be around me this summer, then I want to enjoy a proper summer vacation. And that means, swimming, carnivals, movies, dancing, beaches, kite flying, roller skating." He was beginning to look overwhelmed. "Picnicking, bike riding, book shopping, and more swimming."

"Brea half of what you said I don't even know what it is." Regulus complained, this was obviously not what he had planned when he tracked her down.

Brea tossed the swim shorts into a basket which already had several pairs of muggle summer attire more suited to Regulus. She walked over to an isle of footwear in the clothing store not far from the orphanage. She picked out a pair of sensible flip flops and tossed them to Regulus.

"Don't worry. You've got me." She said with a wink. As she walked to a new isle Regulus was left wondering just what he got himself into.

\--After the new summer muggle wardrobe for Regulus was complete Brea purchased a couple of large towels, and then she pulled Regulus down to the other side of what seemed the country to him but was really only a couple of blocks. He stood nervously outside a fenced entry way watching children and adults splash, swim and laugh in the Sweetwater Pool.

"Are you sure about this?" He asked nervously. Brea smiled up at him and took his hand in hers

"Positively certain. Now come on, it will be excellent fun." Then she pulled him into the entrance. “Now you go into the men’s bathroom and change into your new shorts. I’ll be in the women’s putting on my bathing suit then I’ll meet you back out here.”

He nodded and strode through a door which read men’s to do as he was instructed. Once he slipped out of his original clothes and put on the swimwear he began to have second thoughts.

‘I’m expected to be seen in public in this?’ he thought to himself as he stepped out of the stall and looked in the long mirror. His new swim shorts stopped at mid-thigh and he was expected to go out there shirtless. Next to him was a bloke maybe four years older but had on shorts shorter than even his own. The young man was without a shirt and was suntanned as dark as possible, with muscles Regulus didn’t know there could be muscles. The man noticed Regulus staring.

“Birds love em.”

“Pardon?” Regulus was startled by the other man’s sudden comment.

“The muscles. Birds love em. You don’t look bad but you should work on muscle strength in your arms.” Regulus looked down at his arms.

‘Sure they weren’t as large as this blokes but they had SOME definition. Right?’ Regulus thought to himself.

“And you should tan. Just because we’re English doesn’t mean we have to be pasty colored.” Regulus had no idea how to reply so he nodded and followed the muggle out.

“You here with someone? If not you can hang out with me and I’ll give you some pointers.” The helpful stranger suggested.

Regulus looked around for Brea more than slightly desperate. “I am. I don’t see her yet so she might still be in the chang-“

Regulus broke off and entered a moment of slow-motion. There at the edge of the pool was Brea pulling herself up out of the pool. She sat on the side and squeezed the water from her long pale hair. Regulus took in the yellow swimsuit clinging to her every curve, curves which were…more out there now than they were in their school uniform, the sunlight turning the water droplets to diamonds on her skin, her expression one of extreme delight and pleasure.

Time sped back up to normal when the bloke he had been talking with followed his gaze and gave a low whistle.

“You came with her?” Regulus gulped and nodded. “Ah what a shame. Word of advice…don’t let a bird like that go.” Regulus felt a moment of insecurity as he glanced again at the good looking, well built…and tan…young man next to him. At that point Brea had noticed Regulus standing off to the side.

“Regulus!” she shouted his name and he watched her amber eyes light up in delight as she jogged up to him. “I didn’t think you were ever coming out of there.” He swallowed and tried to think of what to say.

‘Why is she standing so bloody close? I can’t think with her this close.’ he thought.

“Oh that’s all my fault. I struck up a chat in the men’s room.” The other bloke said, causing Regulus to freeze in fear that she might find this bloke well…more than him. However Brea didn’t even look at the other man.

“It’s alright. Now come on Regulus! The waters great!” She said then she grabbed his hand and pulled him to the water. “Now I take it you’ve never been swimming?” He shook his head. “That’s just fine I can teach you.” And she jumped in causing a splash on his legs.

“Oi! That’s cold!” He cried out after she came up to the surface.

“You’ll get used to it! Jump in! It isn’t deep here.”

‘I can’t believe I’m about to do something so….muggle.’ He thought, then taking a deep breath and jumped in. The cool water surrounding him was both shocking and exhilarating. The feeling of floating effortlessly was much how he felt when he was flying. ‘Still can’t compare though.’ He thought and pushed himself to the surface. Brea laughed at his wet hair covering half of his face and she shoved it away.

“Alright the first swimming technique everyone learns is the doggy paddle.” She said in a teaching tone of voice

“I’m sorry…the- the what?” Regulus asked not sure he heard her right. She grinned and began to swim around in a silly manner and not going very fast. Regulus got that arrogant look on his face. “I am not swimming like that. What’s the next technique?” Brea laughed at his tone but acquiesced his request and moved on to the breaststroke. He caught on quickly and soon the two were racing.

“I hope you know Black that I’ll win. I’ve been swimming all my life.” She said.

Regulus lifted an eyebrow. “Fox I have you beat by at last ten inches just in height.” Brea narrowed her eyes good-naturedly. Then before he could say anything else she dove into the pool and he followed only a moment later. Unfortunately for Brea despite her head start she just wasn’t as fast a swimmer as it turned out Regulus was and he reached the other side moments before Brea.

“You must have cheated!” She cried out in indignant laughter.

“Me? You were the one with the head start!”

“Tch.” She pouted with a smile.

“You’re the cheater!” He laughed when Brea tried to push his head underwater. This led to hands pushing and pulling in attempts to dunk the other. Brea eventually slipped behind Regulus and used his shoulders to push herself up and him down in the water. He came up sputtering “Oi!” But he stopped when she wrapped her arms around his neck and she whispered in his ear.

“As the winner you have to give the loser a piggy back ride back to the other side.”

Regulus scoffed and looked over his shoulder back at her. “What would have happened then if you had won?”

Brea grinned and kissed his cheek. She was quite shocked at how bold and free she was behaving. Quite unlike herself to act in such a way, she blamed it on the Sun watching over her, and the rare happiness emanating from Regulus. “Then the winner would have gotten the piggy back ride.” Regulus rolled his eyes and began to make their way back to the shallow end. Brea pulled herself out of the water and laid out on her towel.

“What are you doing?” He asked still in the pool and trying to avoid putting himself in an embarrassing situation.

She closed her eyes and waved lazily toward his towel. “Well it will be time to head back soon and I wanted to dry off. You should too.”

“But I wanted to swim some more!” Regulus whined.

Brea sat up on her elbows. “Regulus! You can’t spend all day in there for you shall surely turn into a fish!”

He laughed at her absurd prediction and pulled himself out to join her.

“I don’t believe transfiguration in front of all these muggles would be a wise idea.” He said as he laid down on his own towel beside her.

She laid back down and turned her head to face him. “It’d be Azkaban for us, I have no doubt!”

“For you maybe I’m just the poor innocent victim in all this.”

Brea only smiled and closed her eyes and Regulus did the same.

Sometime later Brea sat up with a gasp. The pool was now almost empty of swimmers, and the sun was setting. ‘Oh no!’ she thought and shook Regulus.

“Regulus! I think we fell-oh my Merlin!” Brea broke off in laughter as Regulus sat up. He blinked his sleepy eyes and looked around startled.

“Wha-what is it? What’s wrong?”

Brea tried to stop laughing she really did but her mirth just couldn’t be contained.

“You-you are- you got sunburnt!” She eventually burst out through her giggles.

That’s when Regulus felt the horrible burning sensation of his skin and he looked down in alarm. The tops of his legs, his chest and arms and what felt like his face too were all a bright red and burned painfully.

“What- what’s wrong with me!?” He screeched out looking at his body. By now Brea was laying on her back clutching her stomach in laughter. “Brea! What did you do?” He demanded.

“I...I didn’t do…do anything! The sun did that! It’s called a sunburn. It’s from too much exposure to the sun.”

He looked at Brea and saw her skin had a slightly darker tint but otherwise was almost as pale as when he first saw her in the pool.

“Well why aren’t you this sunburnt!” He cried out accusingly. This time Brea had the decency to look ashamed as she pulled a bottle out of her bag. He read the label. “Sunscreen? Protection from the sun!? Brea!”

“I’m sorry Regulus! You were still in the changing room when I put it on and I hadn’t been swimming in so long so I just jumped in and then when you finally came out I was so excited that I completely forgot to tell you about it.” She ended with the pout she had used on Sirius to get him to go to the party with her.

Regulus sighed and stood up before he held a hand down to Brea and helped her stand. “It’s alright Fox. But just this once.” He poked her in the shoulder. A smile lit up her face and she nodded. Once they had changed, Regulus rather painfully, the two walked back to the orphanage where they made arrangements to meet on her next day off.

“Why are you working anyways? If you ever need anything you just have to let me know.” He said quietly. Brea gently mindful of his sunburn set a hand on his cheek and she smiled at him.

“That’s immensely kind of you Regulus. However I owe a very dear friend of mine and it’s only right that I pay him back.”

Regulus narrowed his eyes. “How is it you owe some git money?” She tapped her nose and Regulus growled before grabbing her waist and pulling her closer to him. He tilted his head down to kiss her and her eyes fluttered closed. When his nose brushed her cheek and his lips brushed her jaw she whispered, “The children Regulus”. He stilled his movement and opened one eye to see several young faces huddled by the front window of the orphanage, watching in rapt curiosity.

He groaned and nudged her at the temple of her head with his forehead, all he had been thinking about for months now was when he would be able to kiss her again. And after an entire day spent with her looking so utterly kissable he thought surely he would have been able to. He didn’t even mind how tight her hands her gripping his shoulders, though the pain did help clear his mind enough to step back from her. He swallowed thickly when she opened her eyes and smiled up at him.

“Go on home Black. And don’t forget to change before your mother sees you.” Brea’s eyes flickered down his body. It was strange to see him in flip-flops, blue jogging shorts which showed a lot of leg and a sleeveless shirt with a muggle superhero logo on the front. Strange but she liked it. Helped her forget the roles he was expected to play until she could free him from them. His skin was a painful red color and Brea winced internally because it was her fault, she looked back at his eyes and the look in them made her wonder why he looked so… well…desperately hungry.

The sun was almost completely gone now and without his warm presence she felt fear of Regulus being in trouble because he was late. “You better go. I’ll see you in three days.” She whispered and he nodded.  
He waited for her to walk inside and he could hear chatter of children pestering Brea with a hundred questions and he walked away with a chuckle.

\--At last back in her room, alone and quiet, Brea collapsed on her bed. Unable to erase her smile from her face as she replayed the day’s events, occasionally breaking the silence of her room with a quiet chuckle. Never had she had a day like today. ‘That is how life should be. Endless days of laughter.’ She thought.  
When Brea began to ponder their near kiss a small frown marred her look as she stared at her ceiling. She didn’t have to stop him yet she had. A moment of… twisting in her heart had given her pause and she had held back. Brea couldn’t understand why she had done such a thing.

“Gred I literally spent the last six months thinking of nothing else! And when the perfect boy sweeps you off to a perfect day in the perfect sun and tries to give you the perfect kiss you bloody kiss him! Y- You do not give a pathetic excuse and send him on his way!” Brea lightly ranted to her critter.

After a moment of silence the young witch gave a sigh and closed her eyes, still unsure what was happening with her. “Who knew feelings were so complicated Gred…”


	12. To be a Gypsy…

For the first time that summer Brea couldn’t wait for her next day off work. She had had such fun swimming and just being around Regulus. It was easy to forget what was going on around them when she was with him and she savored every moment they spent together. She pushed her confusion over her reaction to their near kiss to the back of her mind, determined to simply enjoy herself.

The next time she saw him they flew kites in the park though he didn’t seem to understand the point.

“Why wouldn’t we just use magic for this Brea…” He said as he attempted to get his into the air. She laughed at his frustrated face. He had been trying to get the kite into the air for the past five minutes while she had had no problem getting hers to soar up.

“Because not everything has to be done with magic. Muggles accomplish many wonderful things without the usefulness of magic. Here take mine and watch how I do it.”

He dropped his with a shrug and went to take Brea’s kite string from her. “Now what you have to do is release as high up as you can and keep tension in the string. As you pull down the wind pushes up.” And she proceeded to do just as she explained and Regulus kite soared up to join her own. Regulus eventually caught on and became a professional at flying a kite.

Their summer became everything a summer should be for two young people in love. They held hands at every opportunity and did everything one should do on summer vacation. Neither had ever ridden a bike nor roller-skated so they learned together, using the other for support when they risked falling, and teasing heartily when they did but offering a helping hand all the same. They explored the shopping and bought each other silly gifts, and went swimming at least once a week. Regulus was tanning quite nicely much to the complaint of his mother who began to think he was spending too much time away from home.

On the day they rode bicycles down to the beach Brea got to knock off one of her ‘before I settle down’ items. She was laying on her towel to dry when she felt cool sand dropping on her bare legs. When she looked up Regulus had a little plastic shovel and was using it to drop sand on her.

“What are you doing Black?”

He smirked and gestured to her sand covered legs. “I’m burying you.”

She tilted her head and smiled back slyly. “Did you steal that off of a poor child?”

He rolled his eyes and continued to dig up sand and patting it into place on her legs. “I did not steal anything….this time. A kid left it not too long ago and well…seems like fate that I was meant to bury you today. Now am I only doing legs or are we doing a full burying.”

Brea laid down, eyes closed. “All the way to the neck mister.”

“As you wish.” And Brea delighted in the cool feel of the sand and the patting of Regulus’s hands and the therapeutic work relaxed Brea immensely and she began to drift off.

“Oi no falling asleep while I’m doing all this hard work!” He teased her for her peaceful expression.

She smiled happily when his work was done. “Your turn!” And she pushed her way out of the sand and after his protestations she had him laid down and buried in no time at all.

That night it took them each an hour to wash all the sand off, and Regulus was forever lucky his parents were out for the evening.

\--"Regulus there's something I want to do which I've never done before." Brea said on a late summer afternoon. She was busy collecting money from an older man for his groceries. Regulus had surprised her a few hours before at her work so she put him to work bagging people's purchases.

"What's that?" At this point he found he would do anything, for it meant two things to him. One he wouldn't be at home watching every word and action, and two it would make Brea smile. In the time he had spent with her he truly enjoyed himself and felt happy. As if he were a regular bloke and she a regular girl.

He still hasn't been able to get another chance to kiss her though. 'I’ve been close though' he thought with a frown. The time they flew kites, he had begun to lean in right until one of the kites fell out of the sky strait into his face. During a picnic, once again leaning in until several ants bit him from under his shirt. Then finally the perfect opportunity at the beach, she had actually been the one to lean in...Until sand still in his hair from being buried in the sand fell in her face and mouth. Another ruined opportunity.

So when Brea says, "I'd like to go to a cinema. Watch a picture." Regulus was immediately interested.

"I've heard of them! When do you want to go?"

Brea smiled at his excitement. "Let me turn in my deposit and we'll go check for times."

Regulus grinned. He knew what could happen in a dark theater. He'd heard the chatter in the boys’ restrooms at Hogwarts from muggle bourns and half-bloods.

As the two walked hand in hand to the theater he was thinking about snogging and Brea was thinking about how exciting it was to go to her first movie.

Their options were limited but the one called Star Wars sounded much more interesting than the others, so popcorn in laps they settled in the dark room. When Regulus saw how dark the room was and only a handful of other people he was sure he would be able to distract Brea.

Didn't happen. She sat on the edge of her seat, continuously eating popcorn, eyes locked on the large screen before her. She didn't entirely ignore Regulus, she held his hand, and she whispered things like, "Did you see that!" Or "I like the Jedi mind trick!" And he had to admit the movie was enthralling and interesting, there was just something more interesting he wanted to do.

The entire way to the orphanage was spent with Brea going on about how gallant Luke and Han Solo were. "I just know they are going to be great friends. And wasn't Princess Leia wonderful? I wonder who she falls in love with. I bet its Han. Do you really think there are such things as aliens and droids? Sometimes it seems like muggles know so much more than us. Or have more wonderful imaginations..." Regulus rolled his eyes and let his witch chatter on.

\--Several weeks later Regulus sat at the dining table picking at his food. He hadn’t had an opportunity to see Brea since the movie. His father had been demanding more of his time about the workings of the family business. And at the moment his mother was going on about how his aunt Andromeda had been seen at some Gypsy village, celebrating some Gypsy tradition.

"She is determined to drag our good name through the mud those... those muggle heathens dance in!"

Regulus looked up. "Mother may I be excused? I have some correspondence and reading I need to do."

"Go on my precious son," she said shooing him away from the table. He walked calmly to his room and quickly scribbled a note and sent it off with his personal owl, asking for a quick reply. In less than thirty minutes he had his reply and with a grin he put on dark clothing, grabbed his broom, moments later he was quietly flying out of his window into the dark early night.

\--Brea was bored and sad. She hasn't seen Regulus in a fortnight now and she missed him terribly. One would usually find such pining pathetic and nauseating but Brea told herself it was fine if she did. As a lonely girl she was latching onto whatever attention she could get. And she was young. ‘Wasn’t this what you were supposed to do when you’re young? Obsess over a boy?’ Brea wasn’t sure but she had seen other girls do it.

She knew she couldn't risk contacting Regulus so she was left to lay there and worry about him instead of doing what she should have been doing and reading ahead of her studies. So when a soft knock on the window beside her bed startled her to the point she rolled off her bed and knocked her head on her night table, she was both frightened and surprised.

“Oh what the...who...ugh.” She sat up rubbing her forehead grumbling. She gave another startled yelp when she whipped back her curtains and saw Regulus face pressed against the glass and tapping on her window. She pushed her window open and hissed at him angrily.

“Bloody wicked hell Regulus you scared the stars out of me! What are you doing here! I don’t hear from you for two weeks! Two! Weeks Regulus! And you think you can waltz up to my window in the middle of the night, knocking on windows and scaring poor defenseless girls can you?”

Regulus stood there with a cocky smirk as he let her rant at him. “Miss me did you?” Brea rolled her eyes and flicked his ear. “Oi! Defenseless girl my arse!” He cried lightly rubbing his ear. She lifted a brow and tapped her fingernails on the windowsill sending the ‘I’m waiting for an explanation,’ message. He caught on and leaned forward, his smirk back in place, “Fancy a spot of adventure Fox?”

Brea grinned back immediately, “I’ll get my wand.” She magically locked her door, gave Gred a pat as he sat on her pillow, once she pushed Regulus away from her window she maneuvered through it till she was on the ground straitening her dress skirt out. “Alright Black where are we off to?” She said tilting her head. He reached out and picked up his broom which had been leaning in the shadows of the building.

“I would have brought you your own but…” He trailed off. In his mind he was thinking. ‘Nah I probably wouldn’t have brought her one.’

“Regulus! I can’t ride a broom!”

He looked at her in confusion. “Why not?”

She gestured at her dress. “I’m in a dress!”

Regulus noticed for the first time what she was wearing. A solid pale blue linen dress that buttoned from a scoop neck all the way down the skirt which was flared and flowing to just above her knees. It almost looked formal except for the two thin straps giving it a summer dress look. Her shoes were short white and red trainers with a white star on the side. She looked amazing and her pale hair loose on her shoulders made her look like a free spirit.

“Hmm you might have to take your shoes off when we get there but for now just sit behind me sideways.” He said as he mounted his broom, ready for her to sit behind him. He was anticipating it more than was more than likely appropriate.

However rather than following his order she folded her arms stubbornly, “And why should I be the one to ride in the back.”

Regulus rolled his eyes. “My broom my rules. Now do you want to go fly away with me or not.” He held his hand out to her, his silver eyes locked on her amber. She didn’t hesitate taking his hand this time, and it felt good to hold it again.

“How can a witch ever refuse an offer to fly away with a roguish wizard?” She said smiling. After his wink she settled sideways behind him, spreading her shirt as best she could.

“You’ll need to hold on.” He said over his shoulder she nodded and wrapped her arms low around his waist. Once he kicked off she tightened her arms and leaned against his back to which he had to grit his teeth to keep back a groan. Her hands pressed against is lower abdomen, her chest pressed against his back...he began to wonder if not grabbing Sirius’s old broom for her to ride was such a wise decision. He changed his mind again when she leaned her cheek against his shoulder to watch the city disappearing from below them.

After flying for a while she shifted, leaning her chin up to his shoulder. “I did miss you, you know!” she said.

He felt his stomach clench. He liked and at the same time was frightened by the thought of someone missing him. “I missed you too. Father has been pushing the business on me more than what is usual the last couple of weeks. Family business and…other things.” Brea moved her hands up to his chest and hugged him tightly. She squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her forehead in between his shoulder blades.

“I’ll fix this I promise.” She whispered against his back.

“What?” He yelled over his shoulder.

She leaned back up. “Don’t worry. Now then where are you whisking me off to?” She attempted to divert the conversation.

“Won’t be long now we are nearly there.”

In the distance Brea saw the glow of firelight along dark hills and excitement filled her. They landed in the trees at the edge of a clearing, and Regulus quickly hid his broom in a log, Brea marked it with her wand. Without a word he took her hand and led her into the clearing towards where the firelight was coming from.

The sound of music began to fill the night and soon Brea could see that he was leading her to what looked to be a party or celebration of some sorts.

There were torches standing tall in the ground, table after table lined with flowers, food and drink. Near the center of the gathering was a larger fire, a group of people were gathered near it playing various instruments. And the people. The people were of every age, color, and size. All dressed colorfully, and enchanting Brea. Some were eating, others were talking and laughing. The children ran playfully together in various states of wild like undress.

And the dancing. The dancing was unlike anything Stacy had taught her. They all danced in rhythm of the music but each in their own unique way. Where some stomped bare feet and clapped, others swayed and moved in a flowing way. There were so many people Brea was almost afraid of being lost in the crowd.

“So my Fox what do you want to do first.” Regulus asked. He turned and walked backwards so he could face her. Brea’s eyes were alight with excitement and were quickly taking it all in. Her eyes on the dancers she pulled him towards them, already making up a dance as she went. Though he was laughing Regulus was hesitant to dance in a way that he was not trained for.

But Brea wouldn’t stand for it and as she pulled on his hands he eventually gave in and what they danced was more like a country jig, spinning and twirling at random, steps going where they wanted. He was beginning to grow a bit tired and wondered ‘will she ever take a break?’

“Can we take a break?” she said loudly over the music.

“It’s like you read my mind!” he said back and led her to the tables. They nodded and smiled at the people they passed. A little girl handed Brea a flower for her hair, and she smiled her thanks. Brea’s hair was damp from her exertion so close to the fire, and her skin glowed with energy. Once at the table Regulus handed her a cup of lemonade and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She rested against his side, smiling as the party continued.

“How did you know about this Regulus?” she said softly. He wasn’t watching the party he was enjoying the expression on her face,

“Well my mother was going on about how my Aunt Andromeda was out at some muggle village party dragging the Noble House of Blacks name through the mud she was surely dancing in.” He shrugged. “So I gave some excuse for retiring early, wrote to my aunt to which she speedily replied giving me the location of where this celebration was. Grabbed my broom, and left out of my window. I figured this would be something you would be all about.” Brea looked up at him

“You did all that…because you thought it’s something I’d enjoy?” He shrugged again and used his free hand to flatten his damp hair. Brea swelled with happiness. “There’s only one problem.” She said in a serious tone. He looked down at her sharply. “I thought there was supposed to be mud.” She nodded her head to the dry earth to which he laughed.

“Sorry Fox, I can’t control every detail.” She looked up at him with a mock pout making him laugh even more. “Come on you let’s dance,” and she squealed as his arms wrapped around her waist, picked her up and spun her around quickly. Her hair whipped around them and her arms held tightly to his neck. As he spun her there was a clap of thunder and rain began to pour down on the revelers. Brea laughed as Regulus set her down, both looking up into the night sky. Sure enough the stars were gone. Brea splashed in the mud and the party kept going until the last fire died out from the rain. The lack of light forced people back into their homes on the other side of the hill.

“Brea I think it’s time to go!” Regulus shouted over the thunder and rain.

“We can’t fly in this. It’s too dangerous!” she shouted back just as lightening lit up the sky.

"Where should we go then?"

"Do ye young love doves need a place ter stay a night?" An old gravelly voice beside them asked. They both looked over and saw the shadowed figure of an older woman.

Brea nodded without hesitation. "Yes Grandmother we do!"

The old woman nodded and smacked her lips. "You follow ole Anna now. You can use old and blind Markey’s little shanty." She hobbled quickly through the rain, Regulus and Brea following. "He went south ter visit his wee ones." She explained as they started down the hill. Brea could make out dozens of little buildings made of materials left over from what once was other buildings. The thunder became louder as Anna opened the door to one of the little shanties near the outer rim of the community, and lit a lantern hanging by the door. "Not much but it'll keep you love doves dry. No funny business you two and sleep with beautiful dreams." And before either Brea or Regulus could say anything she was off into the dark pouring rain.

Brea shrugged at the bewildered look Regulus sent her way and closed the door once the old woman was gone. The cold of the rain began to set in and she rubbed her arms taking a look around. It was a small single room shack. An old mattress with faded quilts lay in the corner, various objects such as sea shells and herbs, hung from the low celling. In the center was a small fire ring, several pots and pans sat on the floor beside it along with a couple of worn pillows used for sitting on.

“Well at least it’s cleaner than I thought it’d be.” Regulus said. A hint of distaste in his tone.

Brea pushed his arm, “not everyone is born noble Regulus. Some of us are born with only our name.” She said softly. “We must find our own way of being noble and grand, if not in the eyes of someone already born there, then at least finding it in ourselves.”

Regulus felt a flash of hurt that she would think so low of him, stubbornly blind to his true arrogance. “And not all of us are born into such freedom.”

She looked up at him startled at his anger. “Regulus I neve-“

“I know what you meant.” He said cutting her off. “I see how the other students look at me. The whispers that-“

“Regulus stop.” Brea attempted to interrupt him but he continued.

“I’ve been experimenting with the Dark Arts.” He took a step towards her backing her to the wall. “And it’s true I have.” He whispered as he stepped closer to her, her back was now against the wall and her head was tipped back to look in his eyes. “It’s true and it’s still not even the worst part.” He reached out a hand and brushed a piece of Brea’s wet hair from her cheek, tucking it behind her ear. “The worst part is that as much as I despise it... I still cannot refuse the pull it has. It… it seduces me… You say you and this poor fellow that lives here weren’t born into grandness, and that I look down on this shack in disgust. I say his ability to carve out this small bit of happiness is admirable.” He said softly.

She swallowed thickly feeling tears beginning to well up, she set a hand on his cheek, feeling the muscles tighten under her palm. “Oh Regulus I never meant for you to feel unworthy of anything! And someday soon those whispers will be gone and everyone will know how strong you are to have endured.” She cried out before dropping her voice to a whisper and moving both of her hands so he could see her scars. “And I am not as free as you seem-“ Before she could finish he cut her off by pressing his lips hard against hers. She gave a muffled yelp before closing her eyes and holding onto his shoulders, his own hands cupped the sides of her head.

He pulled back slightly, “Merlin Brea I’ve been wanting to do that for so long.” He whispered before lowering back down. This time he kissed her slower, the tip of his tongue brushed her lower lip. The sensation startled Brea causing her to pull back to look at Regulus. His drying black hair was curling wildly and falling across his eyes, eyes which were hooded and the silver turned gunmetal grey. The look in them, Brea didn’t understand yet, but as she stared at him her eyes wide, unsure of how she was feeling.

He began to feel unsure, as she silently stared at him. That is until she leaned on the tips of her toes and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. He automatically wrapped his own around her waist as she kissed him, and this time as he brushed her bottom lip she opened her own slightly and he slipped his tongue through her lips. Each groaned at the warm feeling that spread through them, feeling sensations neither had ever felt before. He moved her against the wall and gripped her waist. He moved from her lips and kiss down to her neck, taking in her scent mixed with fresh rain, the sound of her gasping lightly, her hands moving from his shoulders, sliding up his neck and gripping his hair deeply. He groaned again, the feeling causing him to shudder.

As he worked on her neck and shoulder she used her grip in his hair to tilt his head slightly and she kissed just below his ear.

‘Gods I’ve got to stop…I’ve got to stop…just a little longer.’ Regulus thought in torment. His internal battle raged and he lightly brushed his hips against her, the sensation causing him to inhale and grit his teeth. He leaned his forehead against the wall over her should, trying to catch his breath.

“Brea…Brea we.” He broke off to swallow, squeezing his eyes shut. “We have to stop…” He groaned in pleasure when she licked the lobe of his ear. “I…I can’t do this much longer…” he whispered roughly. He pulled back and kissed her softly and only for a moment. When he looked at her expression he almost gave in and did what his body was yelling at him to do. Her amber eyes had a glazed heated look, her cheeks flushed, with her breath quickly shuddering through lips that had obviously just been kissed. “Merlin Brea you are amazing, and beautiful, and kind, and strong, and wonderful, and-“ He broke off and kissed her again, his tongue swiftly entering her mouth. The taste of her he found was addicting. “Gods Brea….please tell me to stop…we can’t do this yet...you’re making me lose my mind please…stop me.” He moaned against her open mouth.

Brea’s own mind was a whirl of sensation. She didn’t understand why she had finally pushed herself through her hesitation, perhaps it was the desperate need to do something impulsive. Something that a normal girl in love was supposed to do. And Brea had to admit the feeling was wonderful, feeling alive and loved. It felt… well it felt nice she supposed.

Leaning back to look up at Regulus she quickly took in his state of appearance, his ragged breathing and clenched fists. Brea quickly realized there was a difference between them. While he had the eyes of a wild young man that spoke of excitement and anticipation… Brea felt calm and serene. ‘Why am I not as… well in as much of a state as him? I did everything right… used my tongue like Stacy had said and acted on instinct… Something must be wrong with me…’ Brea thought to herself, a slight frown marring her features.

Remembering what Regulus had said a few moments before, Brea at last nodded and pulled away. “We need to stop…”

Regulus nodded back, filled with both relief and disappointment. “You go lie down, I’ll light a fire and we’ll get some rest.” He said in a hoarse voice. As he lit a fire with his wand she used her own wand to finish drying their clothes before lying down on the small mattress.

She watched as Regulus stood over the fire, his back to her, hands clenched. Brea wondered what he was thinking right at that moment. Surely he had something to say after that display.

‘Did I do anything wrong?’ She questioned herself and once again began to despise how much she still didn’t know about the world. She knew well enough of where babies came from, thanks to Stacy, and she remembered certain acts of the farm animals. It’s just…the animals didn’t seem to particularly enjoy the act.

Brea’s eyes widened and she covered her gasp with her hand. ‘Was that what Regulus and I were nearly doing?’ She quickly played the event over her mind. Just thinking made her body feel warm. When she thought about how Regulus pressed his... lower body against her she knew for sure that was what they were near doing.

Brea’s was indeed confused on why she had enjoyed their… actions in the moment, yet once reason had a chance to make an appearance she felt almost… guilty. Her body had never felt this way, and it contradicted with both her mind and her heart.

"Regulus.” She whispered and he turned halfway. Trying to keep his expression free of the apprehension he was feeling. Now that his blood had cooled a small bit and he cleared his head he realized how close he had been to losing control. He had never done anything like that with anyone before. And he wanted to. Merlin knew he wanted to. But as he stood there over the fire, forcing himself to calm down he realized he felt guilt. Guilt about what he was unsure. He could only assume it was because he had nearly done an act that he was not ready for. The longer he stood there thinking the more he realized how true such thoughts were.

And now he was afraid that he had ruined any chance. While to some she seemed so fierce and worldly, he knew she was insanely innocent. The last thing she needed was to be rushed and pushed.  
'Hell she's only fifteen.' He thought. So when she whispered his name he was ready for misery, but the small smile and the sleepy look she had was all that he needed to tell him it was ok. She wasn't upset or angry that he had taken such liberties. She instead patted the free space beside her.

"Come lie down you."

He nodded jerkily. "Right then." He quickly removed his shoes and laid down in the small space beside her. The mattress was rather narrow and Regulus tried to position himself so that he wasn't touching Brea. 'Just trying to respect her personal space' he said to himself.

Keeping the small bit of space was difficult for his resolve as he was once again surrounded by her sent and the warmth of her body. She laughed lightly as she watched him struggle to keep a space between them with half his shoulder sticking off the bed.

"I had the most wonderful time Regulus.” She said as sleep began to creep up on her.

"Thank you for running away with me. Even for one night." He replied but received no answer as sleep had already claimed her. He knew he was acting like a lovesick fool as he spent the next hour or so watching as Brea slept. Her lips were parted so he was almost certain she was drooling but he figured he'd deal with it later and finally drifted off to sleep. The sounds of the rain moving away through the night.

\--Brea woke early as she always did, blinking sleepy eyes. She was disoriented for a moment when she felt the extra weight of arms around her waist, legs tangled with her own, the steady rise and fall beneath her cheek, and soft breathing stirring her hair. Tilting her head back slowly she could see the shadows from the dimming fire casting deep shadows on Regulus sleeping face. His high cheeks and jaw more pronounced, long black eyelashes rested on his cheeks and his hair was wildly tangled and stuck in odd directions.

Brea smiled to herself and snuggled into his side, holding him tightly and breathing in his scent. She began to feel herself being pulled back to sleep by the sound of his beating heart until the sound of birds singing reminded her they needed to get back to their homes before they were missed.

Brea nudged his shoulder and whispered, “Regulus…wake up...” The only response she got was for him to give a light snort and tighten his arms around her. Brea had to admit she really didn’t want to get up and leave her warm spot next to him but they needed to leave. She shook him harder and it did no good. She was reminded of Sirius and the others napping in the chairs in the common room and how difficult it was to wake them. “Bothersome boys.” She grumbled and tried to sit up. This failed since Regulus was still holding onto her.

As she tried to push herself up her hand slipped and ran on the side of his ribs, and to her delight he jerked lightly and frowned. She grinned and began to tickle lightly on his ribs laughing as he wiggled, fighting the urge to wake up and stop whatever it was that was bothering his warm slumber.

When her nimble fingers became too much he finally growled and gripped her wrists. He opened one eye to see her leaning over him with a grinning smile, her hair falling around him in a pale curtain. He would swear he had never seen anything more beautiful. The feeling he got at that moment was the same feeling he had when he would let himself freefall from the sky on his broom.

“Who knew the great Regulus Black would be ticklish.” She teased. He mock growled and pulled her writs throwing her off balance. She screamed playfully as he twisted her around till she was on her back and he leaned above her. His legs holding her own down he released her wrists and began to attack her ribs, tickling her mercilessly. She jerked and laughed trying to push him off. “Reg-Regulus no!” She yelled several times between bouts of uncontrollable laughter. When he finally stopped he was laughing lightly as she tried to catch her breath.

“Good to know you are too.” He said.

Brea smiled and reached her hands up and ruffled his messy hair. “And you Mister Black have an awful case of bedhead. “

He mock frowned and swatted her hands away. “Speaking of, it feels like an unmerciful hour. Why are we awake?” Regulus grumbled around a wide yawn.

“The rain has gone, and left a new day. Which means we should be getting back before we are missed.” She said softly. He groaned and fell back onto his back beside her, and pulled her back to his side.  
In a quiet voice he said “I really don’t want to go back.” Brea hummed as she laid on his chest, she entwined her fingers with his.

“And live forever in this old shack then hmm?”

“Mmhmm walk around barefoot all summer.” He said watching his longer lingers curling around her smaller ones. “Forget about the rest of the world?”

“Mm” Brea sighed. “It would be awfully hard to run a Quidditch camp for young withes and wizards from a little gypsy camp.”

He sighed. “It seems not to be.”

“I suppose we have no choice but to get back to the real world.” Brea impulsively leaned up and kissed him quickly under the chin. “It will get better. I promise.” He nodded and sat up silently.

Once he was standing he helped Brea stand up and the two laughed at the picture they made. Her dress was just as wrinkled as his slacks and shirt. Her hair was knotted up on the side and his was stuck in any which direction. She giggled and tried to flatten his hair while he grinned and tried to brush out her tangled hair. Once shoes where on they stepped out into the dim morning and breathed in the fresh morning air left behind the rain.

A quick glance around showed that no one else was stirring so Regulus quickly shot a spell at the fire to cool it and quietly shut the door behind him and Brea. They walked hand in hand back over the hill, past the clearing where the celebration had been. Tables still covered in water soaked food stood in the clearing next to blackened coals.

“Wouldn’t want to the poor soul who has to clean up this mess…” Brea said.

“Agreed.” Regulus nodded and pulled with Brea with him as he quickened their pace. They quickly found the log Brea had marked that was hiding Regulus broom inside. “Hope the rain didn’t damage it.” He grumbled. When he pulled it out it was covered in mud and very wet causing him to sigh dejectedly.

Brea rolled her eyes. “Oh here. Scrugify!” She cast the cleaning spell and instantly the broom was fit to be flied.

“How are we getting back into town unnoticed all knowledgeable Fox.” Regulus mocked.

Brea thought for a moment. “It sure would be handy if we could apparate but that’s out of the question.”

‘Hmm wish I had Potters invisibility cloak,’ she thought to herself

This brought on another thought and she set her hand on Regulus’s arm. “How are you at disillusionment charms?”

He shrugged “I do alright.”

Brea nodded. “We only really need to keep it up when we ascend and descend. “

Regulus grinned at sat in position holding his hand out to Brea just like the night before. “Come along fox. Time to un runaway together.”

She laughed and sat sideways on the broom again, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist, and chin on his shoulder, “Let us go then.“ He waited a moment longer as they quickly cast a disillusionment charm then he kicked off. Once they were high into the air they released the spell and quickly made their way back to London. They didn’t speak, it wasn’t really prudent to do so while so far up and traveling so fast.

Once it was time to make their descent they cast their charm and landed down in the shadowed part of the back yard of Brea’s orphanage. They released the charm and he walked her to her window.

“It’s nearly time for school to begin again.” He said and put a hand on her cheek. “I’ll try to get away but if I cannot…..”

“Shhh it’s ok. I’m sure you’ll be able to think of some clever escape.” She said with a smile. He nodded but didn’t return the smile. He swallowed a knot as he felt words well up inside of him. He thought he knew what he was feeling and he wanted her to know too.

Hell he had finally admitted to himself that the whole reason he was going along with Death Eater practices was so he could find some way of defeating Voldemort, therefore breaking the chains his parents had over him and the Slytherins hatred of Brea wouldn’t matter anymore, all so he could show the world he loved Brea Fox.

So as he stood there holding her cheek and she stared up at him with wide clear amber eyes, eyes that looked at him as if he were something more than a pureblood dungeon rat, he had to say something. He took a sudden step closer to her and kissed her. He broke off just as suddenly, his lips dragged to her jaw and he rested them there squeezing his eyes just.

“Merlin Brea…I’ve got something to tell you.”

She leaned back just enough to look up at him, “What is it Regulus?” She whispered.

“Brea...I-“, He broke off and swallowed. “I you…uhm I lo-“ He was interrupted by a knocking from Brea’s room. She quickly scrambled through her window and let down her silence charm.

“Um yes what is it?” she said loudly.

“Brea, it’s time for breakfast.” A young voice muffled by the door came through.

“Oh ok I’ll be there in a moment.” She turned back to the window and leaned out. Regulus was leaning on the wall beside it, when he saw her he moved to her. She gave an apologetic smile. “You better go. I need to get cleaned up and make an entrance. You need to as well.” He nodded and took a deep breath when she reached out and gripped the front of his shirt and pulled him to her. She gave him a quick kiss.

“I’ll see you around Black.” She said softly and he watched her duck back inside her room and close the curtains.

He sighed and ruffled his already messy hair before disillusioning himself and flying his way back to his own home. He wasn’t sure if he was relieved or disappointed that what he had been about to say was interrupted. He vowed the next time he saw her though he’d do something about it. He swiftly made his way through his window and landed. He was exhausted as he had only had a few short hours of sleep and not in the most comfortable of places.

Though holding Brea had been a definite plus to the situation he was ready to fall into bed. Instead he took a quick shower and dressed in comfortable clothing before settling on his bed. He was flipping through the newest Quidditch weekly when his father opened his door unannounced. He stood there tall and intimidating as he looked around Regulus’ room.

“I need you in my study immediately.” He said in a cold voice. “And put on something presentable.” He gave his younger son another hard look before swiftly turning and slamming Regulus door.  
Regulus tried to hide his nervousness as he quickly changed and made his way down to his father’s study. An unannounced audience with his father was never pleasant.

Once inside he stood before his father’s desk, his hands behind his back as he waited for his father to speak.

“Regulus I’m sure by now you realize there are certain responsibilities that are befitting your station. Now I know what it’s like to be a boy of fifteen but I will tell you this right now.” Regulus clenched his hands as his father began to raise his voice slightly. “You have been disappearing all summer to gods know where. Sowing wild oats I suppose. Now I will only ask you this once….have you been…consorting with muggle girls?”

Regulus was able to speak truthfully as he said, “No father…I have not.”

Orion nodded though not satisfied. “A witch then…and I can only suppose she’s of inferior birth or you would have said something.” Regulus did not reply. “You are lucky to have a father who cares for your future. Since you do, I am putting a stop to this affair before you can disgrace yourself and this family further.”

Regulus felt the blood drain from his head as he listened to his father and the more his father said the more he felt sick to his stomach. He was frozen and unseeing as his father told him what he had done.


	13. Ways of the Purebloods

Brea didn’t get to see Regulus for the rest of the summer. The effect on her would be rather dramatic unless you are a teenage girl in love for the first time. She missed him terribly and worried herself constantly on why he hadn’t been by. And to top it off she had no one to talk to about it. Not until it was time to go school shopping.

The week before it was time to go shopping with Stacy, Brea had received a letter through the post from Hogwarts informing her that she was now a fifth year prefect. Brea was happy that she had made such an accomplishment, but it didn’t last long. Her first thought was to tell Regulus but he wasn’t there to tell. So she was left with holding it all in. that and she felt guilty for the witch who was supposed to be prefect. If she had to guess she would say it was supposed to be Rose.

On shopping day, Brea met up with Stacy in Diagon Alley already in a terrible mood. Full of teenage angst yet she was still happy to see Stacy and wanted desperately to tell her all about the wonderful summer she had had up until a few weeks ago. Brea was certain Stacy would be rabid with invasive questions, so she held it in with a smile, and decided to wait until a more private setting to divulge her summer adventures.

Their shopping was done with only one incident. The two teenage witches were browsing a section of text books for school when Stacy rounded a book shelf and ran into Anthony. Stacy fell to the floor and dropped everything she had been holding.

“Watch it prat…” She grumbled looking up at Anthony staring down at her. Much to Brea’s and doubly to Stacy’s surprise he held out a hand to help her up

“Whatever Duchess.” Came his bored reply with a classic eye roll. The two stood staring at each other while Brea stood there awkwardly looking from one to the other until she had a sudden thought.

“Um Anthony?” She sought his attention. When he looked at her she stepped closer to him and whispered, “Have you heard from Regulus?”

He frowned and shook his head. “No the last I heard from him was several weeks back. In fact I haven’t seen nor heard from him much at all this summer.”

Brea bit her lip in worry. She swallowed a knot and nodded. “Ok...I just wondered.”

Anthony glared and leaned down, “If anything has happened to him because you couldn’t leave him alone Fox….” He whispered harshly. She blinked back tears as she nodded, feeling pathetically lost and guilty as she began to fear that she had done something to cause him harm. Stacy pushed Anthony back and stepped in front of Brea.

“Watch it Warwick.” She said with an angry glare. He curled his lip and walked off with a long stride. Stacy watched him leave and once he was gone from sight she turned to Brea who had her arms wrapped around her stomach.

“What was that all about Brea?” Stacy asked in concern.

Brea shook her head, “When I know Stacy…I promise I’ll tell you.” Stacy knew Brea well enough that she would have to accept her reply.

“Come on then. Let’s buy our books and get out of here.” And she led a suddenly cold Brea to the counter to pay for the purchases.

\--On the morning Brea was to go leave for her next year at Hogwarts she woke up early with a foul feeling in her stomach and a terrible taste in her mouth. She immediately ran to the bathroom and dry heaved into the toilet for several minutes. Once her stomach finally stopped clenching she rinsed her mouth and prepared to be picked up by Torrin along with Rose and his family.

Brea dressed quickly in a calf length dark green skirt matched with a crisp white button shirt and brown sweater vest, brown slip-ons and her pale hair in a low ponytail. Once done pulling her trunk into the entry way, she made the way towards the kitchen to find some toast hoping to settle her stomach. An odd sight caused the witch to pause as she passed the living room. There before the television stood Miss Harluff.

That’s not what stopped her though it was the report coming from the television that caused her pause and she slowly walked towards it to join Miss Harluff at her side.

“At 3:28 a.m. A report of a house fire was called in to emergency services. Emergency services responded immediately but were unable to control the fire. Casualties of this inferno were a husband and wife and what appears to be their son and daughter. Cause of the fire is currently unknown and investigators are still on the scene.”

By now Brea was standing alongside Miss Harluff and the news report cut away from the reporter to footage of the aftermath of the fire. All that remained was an unrecognizable pile of ash and coals. That’s not the part that made Brea gasp in shock. Barely seen above the burnt remains was a twisting snake in the smoke. Miss Harluff blindly gripped Brea’s hand tightly and held on as they both knew what that snake meant. This was a Death Eater attack.

\--An hour later Brea was waiting on the porch with her things for Torrin and Rose to show up. They were twenty minutes late when Miss Harluff joined her outside.

“Dear they may have already gone on ahead or held up in traffic. They do have quite a drive. So I called you a cab to take you to Kings Cross. They should be here any moment.” After a moment’s pause the older woman continued. “Here’s some money for the cab fare.” Brea nodded silently and stuffed her money in the sweater pocket with Gred. Miss Harluff hesitated before leaving, and pulled Brea into a hug.

“Now then girl you be safe out there. Times are getting dangerous. Here in town I see more and more reports of missing people and terrible accidents.” She said as she released Brea from her arms. “I’ll see you at the end of your term yes?” Brea nodded and brought up a small smile more to give the kind woman comfort and hide the unease she had felt in her bones all morning.

A moment later a cabbie pulled up and helped Brea with her luggage. With a last wave she was off to Kings Cross. She realized she didn’t feel as excited as she had the years before and she just couldn’t pinpoint why. She was a prefect, she would be around her friends, and best of all she would finally have the chance to see if Regulus was ok. She might not be able to speak with him but just seeing him would be enough.

When Brea and the silent driver arrived at the station she paid the driver and made her way through to the platform. It was alive with activity, parents hugging their children goodbye, friends reuniting, and telling summer stories wildly. Brea didn’t pay them any attention as she made her way to the compartment she usually shared with her friends. Only Stacy was inside for the moment, chewing gum and reading a magazine.

“Hey Stacy.” Brea greeted as she sat down next to the window watching for her friends and Regulus.

“Hiya Brea.” Stacy replied. The two chatted till it was near time to leave. Torrin and Rose still had not arrived.

“Have you seen Torrin or Rose yet?” Brea asked worry etching her voice. Stacy didn’t look up as she shook her head.

“Nope.”

“I wonder where they are.”

Stacy looked up at last and frowned. “They didn’t bring you here?”

Brea shook her head. “No they were late so Miss Harluff ordered me a cab to bring me.”

“Hmm. Maybe they are in their own compartment snogging eh?” Stacy grinned. Brea gave a small smile in answer as the train began to depart the platform.

“I hope so Stacy.”

Part way through the ride Brea changed into her school robes and pinned her prefect badge.

“I better get to the prefects meeting. See you at the feast Stacy.” Stacy simply waved as she concentrated on her magazine. When Brea stepped into the prefect compartment she struggled to keep her composure.

There were already several students there, one of them being Regulus. He was sitting next to Augusta and didn’t even look up at her entrance. She felt her stomach knot up at the blank look on his face as he stared straight ahead.

Brea’s first instinct was to throw her arms around him and tell him how much she missed him but she was coherent enough to realize how terrible of an idea that would be. Instead she settled for dropping her eyes to the floor and sitting in the vacant spot next to the door. Regulus didn’t look her way but Augusta did. The girl’s dark eyes met Brea’s light ones and Brea saw they were just as dull as Regulus’s were.  
Brea swallowed and looked around the compartments. She had seated herself next to Remus and Lily. The fifth year Gryffindor boy prefect was Stewart Langley and he was across from her. A nice enough boy. She didn’t know him well but she had never heard anything negative said about the boy. He was a bit on the shorter side, just over her own height, thick about the waist, and with kind blue eyes and sandy hair.  
Brea wasn’t surprised to see Rayna there along with a Ravenclaw boy she had partnered with in potions occasionally. The only other students she knew by name were Severus and Guy. Severus sat across from Lily and next to Rayna who would occasionally share a quick small smiled glance, and Guy stood next to the doorway. He was glaring at the floor, his thick brows low over his eyes in an angry expression. He too wouldn’t look at her.

Brea nodded hellos once she had sat down and there was a tense silence in the compartment. The meeting finally started when the last prefect, the Hufflepuff girl from fifth year stumbled in, and the Head boy and girl went over their duties and schedule. Every two weeks they would meet in the staff room to rotate partners and patrols. This meant Brea realized she would eventually be partnered with Regulus.  
The thought both brought relief that she would have a valid excuse to speak with him and it also made her nervous since she wasn’t sure what she would say. Once everyone was clear on their duties the meeting adjourned and they began to patrol the train. Conversing quietly with Stewart, small talk about their summer. He mentioned writing with Torrin over the summer.

“That’s right I had forgotten you were dorm mates.” She said once the realization hit her. He nodded before they were interrupted by a little first year looking for the bathroom compartment. Once the first year was headed in the right direction she watched the boy leave

“Were we really that little?” She asked softly.

Stewart looked from her and down at himself. “Well I’d say we are both still pretty short.”

Brea smiled a real smile for the first time in weeks. “Don’t be cheeky you.” She said giving him a playful push forward.

\--That evening as Brea sat across from Stacy the sick feeling was overcoming her once again. They were gathered in the Great Hall waiting for the sorting to finish up. Torrin’s and Roses seats next to them sat empty and all Brea could do was stare at them with a frown.

By now Stacy was glancing around nervously, half paying attention to the sorting as she began to feel thick worry for her friends settle over her. Brea looked up as Professor Dumbledore stepped up to his podium and she saw the somber expressions on all of the professors seated at the teachers table. Dumbledore made his usual announcements but instead of stepping down he stood there silently.

All students waited just as silently, each feeling the tension in the air. Brea suddenly knew what he was about to say and felt the blood drain from her face, her eyes locked on the Headmaster. He cleared his throat before speaking again.

“Here at Hogwarts it is very easy for us to forget the tragedies taking place beyond our walls. Easy to forget the pain and suffering others are enduring“. He took a pause as his eyes swept all of the students.

“This morning I received word that such pain and suffering was inflicted on two of our very own students.” Brea closed her eyes as his next words washed over her. “With a heavy heart full of sadness I regret to inform you of the passing of Rose Piper, and Torrin Cuinn.” Brea held her breath as she felt a tear fall down her cheek. She heard the gasps of the students around her and the once quiet Hall had a soft murmur. “The Ministry will be investigating this situation and we hope to have answers to all of this soon. With that said please let the feast begin.”

Brea finally took a breath and opened her eyes and met Stacy’s. They both ignored the food that had appeared before them. Stacy’s eyes weren’t full of grief, they were full of anger and her hands were clenched. Brea’s own felt devoid of everything and they sat silently staring at each other, the sound of quiet murmurs around them. Neither ate and neither spoke.

All Brea could think about was how she spent so much time last year avoiding Torrin and hardly spending any time with Rose.

Once the feast was finished she felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up to see Lily and Remus standing beside her, Lily’s hand falling back to her side.

“Come on Brea…we have to get the first years rounded up.” She said softly with barely contained sadness.

Brea nodded and stood to follow, calling for the first years in a dry voice. She stood to the side of the Great Hall doors waiting for the younger students to pass through. Across from her she saw Regulus standing by the opposite door waiting for his group of first years to pass by. She looked at him desperately for any sign that everything was going to be ok. Her eyes pleaded with him but the only response she received was a vacant expression as if he didn’t even see her there.

The moment passed as he followed his first years out of the Great Hall. As he walked away Anthony took his place. He met her eyes and for once she saw regret in them and he gave a small shake of his head conveying that he had no idea what was happening with Regulus. She took a deep breath and returned with a small nod of acceptance and she left the Great Hall behind to catch up with her own group of first years.

Stewart stepped back to be beside her and they shared a saddened look and silently made their way up to their tower. The common room was quiet, most students making their way to their dorms immediately.

A few talked quietly amongst themselves.

Stacy wasn’t in the common room so Brea assumed she already went up to their dorm. She didn’t speak to anyone as she made her own way for the comfort of her room before being intercepted by Sirius. He blocked her exit and gripped both of her shoulders, leaning down to eye level with her.

“Brea…I’m so sorry about your friends…” he said softly, his usually jovial expression unusually somber. Brea took a deep breath for strength and nodded.

“That’s nice Sirius.” She said quietly.

“We will win this somehow.” He said fiercely. She gave him a small smile and patted him on his cheek, silently tortured by how much he looked like Regulus.

‘Why couldn’t I have fallen in bloody love with him…this would have all been so much simpler to bear.’ She thought silently. But she knew if her life had taught her anything it was that she was not meant to take the easy road. If she wanted love and to save her friends from every terrible fate that would befall them then she wouldn’t be able to take the easy path. She was going to have to fight for everything she wanted.

As she stood there listening to him go on about revenge Brea felt an overwhelming weariness come over her and she finally held up a hand, breaking Sirius off and gave him a secret smile. “I will take care of everything Sirius. Thank you.” And she left him behind watching her curiously.

While Brea was walking up the stairs to her dorm room now only shared with Stacy, Regulus was down in the Slytherin dorm of his own laying on top of his blankets staring at the green canopy above his bed. He played the day’s events in his mind over and over, ignoring Anthony who sat on the edge of his own bed watching Regulus.

“What’s happened Regulus.” Anthony asked quietly. Regulus sat up and rubbed a hand over his face.

He sighed deeply. “I hardly know where to begin…it’s all so fucking messed up- and I- it’s all just so fucking messed up.” He said in a miserable tone.

Anthony looked at him, keeping his face free of emotion. “How about we start with where you’ve been all bloody summer.”

\--For the next couple of months Brea fell into a pattern. She did her studies, and raised her hand in class. OWLS were this year so she took elaborate notes in all of her classes. She continued with dueling club and was almost relieved that Regulus was not in it this year.

Anthony had stayed along with Stacy and the Marauders and this year she was paired with Remus as a partner. She was content with being his partner since they got along very well and he was a competent dueler.

The prefect duties in the late evenings had so far had only been paired with Stewart, and Colin the Ravenclaw prefect. She and Stacy didn’t talk about Rose or Torrin. They didn’t speak much at all but they were always together. Most of their classes were still together so they sat at the same table and only spoke of class work.

The Marauders were not happy with the change in morale of most of their housemates and were determined that they would pester the two girls as much as possible and often dragged the two of them outdoors each chance they had. She knew they expected her to laugh at their antics and often they reminded her on why she was here in the first place. Brea was immensely pleased with how they now always left Severus alone.

In fact Severus could now always be found in the company of Rayna instead of the Slytherins in his year much to the relief of Brea. She knew she was changing timelines. And the future in which she had known so little of, was already different than how she left it.

Little comfort to her when she slowed her busy life enough to let thoughts of Rose and Torrin and how much she missed Regulus creep in. she still hadn’t had a proper look at him but she could see changes in him. He never had any expression on his handsome face and never participated in classroom discussions. During meals he was surrounded by students she suspected or knew would someday be Death Eaters and she noticed Anthony no longer sat with him. He sat beside Severus and Augusta instead leaving Regulus alone.

This worried Brea more than anything else as she watched Regulus become a completely different person. She and Stacy still went to the Quidditch matches though it was difficult to bear the first Gryffindor match since Torrin was no longer there. Many of the students felt this absence deeply and cheered halfheartedly, Stacy and Brea not at all.

Later on in the month during a Slytherin match against Hufflepuff, she watched, hands clenched as Regulus used reckless maneuvers and dangerous techniques in order to catch the snitch. Yet he caught it just as he always did and left the pitch before anyone could offer congratulations.

\--The time finally came to when Brea was paired for prefect patrols with Regulus for two weeks. The first night of their patrol together she waited anxiously. They were to meet by the Great Hall and patrol the front corridors. Brea smoothed her hair and straightened her skirt as she waited for Regulus to meet her. She finally heard his long legged stride as he approached her from the shadows.

He didn’t stop when he reached her, he simply brushed past her continuing towards their patrol area. Her jaw dropped at his rude treatment of her and she stumbled to catch up to him.

“Regulus would you wait?” she whispered loudly. He ignored her until she reached him and jerked the sleeve of his robe. “What is your problem Black?” she hissed, her stance rigid as she stared up at him. He was silent looking past her. “What’s happened?” she asked in a pleading tone now that she had him still. His eyes began to frantically look around and he swallowed hard.

In a low voice he finally answered her, “There are…things you can’t know Brea. Just. Please leave it at that. Don’t make this harder than it is.” She searched his face, wishing he would just look at her once but he continued to look everywhere else except at her. The meaning of his words beginning to sink in.

“But I thought…we- we were-“. She broke off her stutter when he shook his head and walked off without another word. Brea didn’t watch him leave and instead she walked the opposite wall, hoping she didn’t see him again on this patrol. Something had happened and she was certain it meant nothing but heartbreak for her.

Over the course of the next few days that she had evening patrols with Regulus they didn’t speak even though Brea wanted to bombard him with questions on why he was acting like a git. She kept her silence and let it eat at her. She noticed that he never relaxed as they walked. His hands were always clenched and he talked harshly to students they found out past curfew.

She didn’t know this Regulus. This cold and silent Regulus was not the one she thought she knew so well. Their last patrol for the bi-week finished quietly as everyone before had. Only this time before they parted he managed to briefly meet her eyes and Brea saw the brief glimpse of guilt behind his own. She opened her mouth ready to plead with him if necessary to just tell her what had happened but he was already turned away and walking quickly towards the dungeons leaving her with a feeling as if she just lost something she’s never getting back. All she could think of anymore was ‘when is it going to snow?’

\--Unfortunately Brea had to wait for her first snowfall. It was nearly time for winter break when she finally felt the fresh snow in the air and yet with it the sense of serenity she usually found comfort in was missing.

Late on a Friday afternoon Brea was in the library working on a Care of Magical Creature essay. She had finished it sometime ago but she needed something to occupy her mind so she was going over it again looking for mistakes when she heard the rustle of students sitting at a table. If she had to guess they were seated at the table directly across from hers blocked by the shelves that stood between them. She didn’t pay them much attention at first as what sounded like a group of boys talking about the recent Quidditch match, Slytherins by the sound of them as they bragged about how hard one of them hit a bludger.

Brea rolled her eyes and shook her head before continuing with her work. They changed subjects and Brea stilled her quill.

“So Black tell us how does it feel to be engaged.” Brea felt as if the air was sucked from her lungs as she realized what she had just heard. She didn’t hear Regulus reply and the other boy continued.

“Yea that’s how I’d feel too. My parents are in talks with the McMillian family for their daughter. She’s some third year Ravenclaw brat. But she’s a pureblood and rich. That’s what’s important.” Brea felt sickened by his words and tried to still her shaking hands. A new voice spoke up.

“While those are both desirable traits….any bird of mines gonna have looks. Black here scored the jackpot with Corrigan.” Brea squeezed her eyes closed and told herself to breath over and over.

“Tell us something Black. How did it feel?” the voice spoke in barely a whisper and for the first time she heard Regulus voice answer.

“How did what feel?” his voice was low and sounded bored.

“Being in his presence? Sitting alongside the others as he discussed his plans? I know you were there when they decided to burn that mudblood.” Brea opened her eyes wide and slapped a hand over her mouth to keep herself silent as she listened.

There was a pause before Regulus replied. “Unlike anything I’ve experienced.” Brea knew she couldn’t bear to hear anymore and frantically began to gather her items as quickly and quietly as she could.

“I heard he casts the cruciatus curse on the others sometimes.”

The last she heard as she left her table was Regulus quietly saying “If you ever come before him…you better show him fear.” Brea stumbled from the library and bumped into Stacy. Stacy saw the wild eyed look as Brea ignored her friend and left at a run. She was stunned speechless and walked into the library to see if she could find out what upset Brea so much. She walked quietly by the shelves until she came across a table filled with Slytherins and at the center of them all was Regulus. He noticed her staring and met her gaze.

She knew immediately Brea must have heard them say something which hurt her best friend a great deal. She curled a lip at Regulus and he dropped his gaze. She left with an angry stride to search for her friend.

Stacy had been searching for Brea for the past twenty minutes when she came across Anthony walking down a corridor. He was alone and made to walk by her without acknowledging Stacy. Only by now she was seeing red and she acted on instinct. She angrily gripped the taller boys arm and shoved him backwards into the hallway wall. He pushed her off angrily and rubbed the back of his head which had smacked the stone wall behind him. Stacy knew deep down It wasn’t his fault but she was angry and she knew she could handle Anthony Warwick.

”Bloody hell what are you doing!” he yelled at her.

“What has Black done to Brea?” She demanded her hands on her hips and eyes a stormy blue.

He bit out through a clenched jaw “I don’t know what you mean.” She stepped closer, her eyes nearly level with his.

“I want to know why my best friend-“. His scoff broke her off and he swiftly grabbed her shoulders and turned them until she was now the one with her back on the wall.

He used his height to crowd her and he whispered harshly “It’s always about bloody Fox and what he’s done to her but it’s never about Regulus and what she’s done to him.” Her eyes were wide as she listened to him defend his friend, doing her best not to notice how his dark eyes seemed to see right through her. “Because she couldn’t leave him alone he’s now in more danger than you will ever comprehend. What MY best friend has to do just to survive would break you.” Tightening his grip on her.

“We have to help them Warwick.” She whispered.

He growled and leaned closer to her. “There is no helping them! We don’t have the luxury of helping anyone other than ourselves“.

The storm entered her eyes again as she narrowed them and pushed back. “I don’t believe it for a moment. I’ve lost two friends already, I’m not losing-“

“Don’t be stubborn Anastasiya!”

“No Warwick you listen to me you arrogant arse, they need our help!” Her voice was thick and desperate as she stared at him searching his face.

He stared back at her, emotions roiling inside of him. “You’re too bloody stubborn Duchess.” He whispered before surprising them both and capturing her in a kiss. He didn’t wait to see if she was accepting. He immediately pushed his tongue through her lips, deepening the kiss. He expected her to fight him and for the first moment she did.

She couldn’t believe what was happening and tried to turn her face from him her eyes wide in surprise but his grip had moved from her shoulders to the back of her head, his hand tangling in her hair holding her to him. His eyes closed when she stilled as she felt him deepen the kiss and she quickly adjusted to the feel of him in her mouth.

Stacy’s own eyes fluttered closed and she tentatively responded by brushing her tongue against his. He moaned as her response flooded him with heat, he roughly sucked on her bottom lip and felt himself getting uncomfortably hard as she whimpered, her hands gripping his hips. He pushed them against her own hips moaning into her gasp.

“This is what you do to me constantly Duchess.” He growled in her ear. “Do you realize how bloody impossible it is to be raised to look down on someone like you only to feel as if I’m turned inside out every time I have to look at you.”

Stacy pulled back as she felt his words hit her like a bucket of ice water. He went to kiss her again only she had enough of her senses about her this time and she bit his lip hard.  
He yelped and backed away looking at the blood on his lip as wiped it off. “What the fuck!”

Stacy grinned darkly and spit the taste of his blood from her lips at his feet. “Do you know what I feel when I look at you Warwick? I feel disgusted. Not because you’re Slytherin or even because you don’t like me. No you act as if none of what’s happening out there is going to affect you. Like you’re untouchable.” She said in a venomous tone, her eyes dangerously hard. “Someday you are going be filled with regret if you sit back and do nothing as your best friends loses who he is.”

He stood there as she gave him one more look filled with pity and contempt before she walked away quickly to continue looking for Brea. Anthony leaned back against the wall and slid down. He knew she was right, his best friend was disappearing and he didn’t know how to help him. The feeling of helplessness rested heavily on Anthony’s shoulders…almost has heavily of how much he enjoyed kissing Anastasiya.

And worse than that was the cut her saying how much he disgusted her actually hurt.

‘I should be the one disgusted at her!’ He thought but deep down he knew he was anything but disgusted by the girl with golden hair that always made him think of someone regal and all powerful. No, Anthony was not disgusted by his Duchess, not at all.


	14. The Rooms Silence Breaks

When Brea ran from the library there was only one place to go. She considered briefly the garden but last Christmas flashed through her mind and the once happy memories only told her that she should go elsewhere. So she ran. She ran like she hadn’t in so long, using muscles that hadn’t been used in months. She climbed staircases and skidded around corners, avoiding students if she could until she made it to her Room of Requirement.

The door appeared instantly and Brea slammed it behind her, threw her bag on the floor while immediately bringing her wand out. The wand hummed in her hand as she threw curse after curse at the practice dummies. She wanted more than a one sided fight and charmed the dummies to cast back at her. Brea wanted a fight. Wanted to destroy something… anything.  
Brea deflected every spell and her aim was true with every one of hers. The anger at loosing Rose and Torrin, Regulus now being engaged, the fact that he apparently knew about Rose and Torrin’s murders and had done nothing, crashed onto her.

She suddenly, more than ever, desperately wanted to be back on her farm with Martha, watching the clouds pass. For the first time since she accepted what she must do, she wanted to give up this never ending mountain that is not knowing what to do, how to do it, and when it would finally be time to actually do what needed to be done was eating away at Brea.

As much energy as she was using it didn’t feel like it would ever be enough. Tired of waiting, she fought to use every ounce of what she had left until she eventually fell to her knees with a sob.

“How was I ever supposed to fix anything?” She screamed at the dummy. “How was I ever supposed to save them? I’m…I’m- I was just a stupid ignorant girl living on a castle in the clouds! Dreaming of fairytales and sunlight.” Her self-pity draining her, she hugged her knees and cried into them. “It’s all becoming too much to bear….how do I do something so impossible? How do I save Regulus and Severus and Fred and all of them…I don’t even know if I can save myself anymore…” She whispered as her tears slowed.

A moment later as she cried, Brea heard the sound of a door creaking open and she snapped her head up, afraid someone had found her. Her eyes looking around wildly she noticed a wardrobe on the other side of the large room. Brea frowned as she stared at it.

“I don’t remember you…” She murmured. She slowly stood and walked over to it studying as she went. It was large, made of some kind of polished red oak and very detailed with ornate carvings swirled into the wood. One of the doors was slightly opened and Brea tried to peek through without touching it. When she couldn’t see anything she slowly opened both of the doors at the same and gasped in wide shock at what was inside.

On the back of the wardrobe were a set of hooks on which sat what could only be the Sword of Gryffindor. She slowly reached out a hand and gently touched the jeweled hilt, mesmerized by its legendary magnificence. As she studied the sword she caught a glimpse of something else resting on the shelf below the sword. She bent down and studied what appeared to be an untitled book.  
It was of hard leather stained an impossible dark green and very old looking. Brea gently opened the cover and quickly deducted that the book was in fact a journal. Softly she touched the words etched in silver inside the cover. “Salazar Slytherin”

Brea felt fear and awe both at once. “…He must have left this behind…hidden it.” She said quietly. Brea quickly realized something else as she scanned the first few pages written in Old English with a handsome scrawl. Salazar mentioned his use of Parseltongue.

“You think I’m ready to fight back don’t you?” She asked the room not really expecting a response and she did not get one. She nodded and gently closed the wardrobe doors and rested her forehead on them.

“I’m not giving up.” She said with more determination than she had felt in a long time.

Brea left the Room of Requirement and walked through the castle. She had already missed dinner and didn’t care to go to the common room. Right now she needed to be surrounded by memories to remind her why she’s here. Why she’s come so far, further than anyone else has ever been. The sun was nearly gone when she stepped out into the cold evening making her way toward her own fox hole. The snow was light so Brea was able to jog quickly to her spot. When she entered she saw Stacy seated on one of the benches. Somehow not surprised to see the blonde there, she gave a small smile to Stacy as she sat down beside her.

“I thought you might turn up here eventually.” Stacy said nudging Brea with her shoulder.

Brea shrugged and looked at her hands. “I miss them you know.” Brea said quietly, speaking of their friends for the first time.

“I do too.”

Brea blinked back tears. “I feel so… so utterly guilty Stacy. I practically ignored them last year all because…because…I don’t even remember now…” Brea said in a broken voice.

Stacy wrapped an arm around Brea’s shoulder hugging her. “Shhh they knew you loved them still Brea…love them still.” Brea took a deep breath and nodded. “Look Brea…I know you are carrying a bigger weight than anyone else can possibly know…but you don’t have to bear it alone.” Brea sat silently as she thought about all the secrets she had. She knew she couldn’t bare her soul to Stacy but she could tell her some of what was going on. She took a deep breath.

“I spent most of my summer with Regulus.”

Stacy’s eyes widened. “How did you manage that? I’m sure his parents would have flipped!”

“He would give some excuse or another about being at Anthony’s house or something like that.”

“So what did you do?”

“It was so amazing Stacy. We did everything together. We had so much fun…a perfect summer.”

“Did you do… you know…it?” Stacy asked with a grin.

It took Brea a moment to realize what she meant and she blushed “No! Though I think he wanted to once.”

Stacy gasped and gave Brea a shove. “No way! I can’t believe you have gotten closer to shagging than I have!” Brea laughed for the first time in a long time, Stacy joining in.

When their laughter died down Brea brought out the bad news. “He’s engaged.” She whispered.

Stacy sputtered in outraged shock. “WH-what!?”

Brea nodded. “His parents arranged a marriage to Augusta Corrigan.”

“People still do that?”

“Purebloods do.”

“But-but that’s barbaric!”

Brea nodded in agreement. “What about Corrigan? Is she happy with this?”

“I don’t think so. She looks pretty unhappy and if what Guy says is true then the two of them are in love.”

Stacy thought about what Brea said. “What are you going to do?”

Brea shrugged. “Not sure.”

Stacy harrumphed. “Well if I was in love with an otherwise engaged wizard, I’d do some fighting.”

Brea couldn’t help but laugh. “Speaking of your wizard how is Warwick.” Brea said slyly.

Stacy narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean how’s Warwick? He’s a bloody self righteous prat who has no idea how he really feels about me yet. And if he thinks I’m going to wait around forever for him to figure it out he better think again.” Stacy said in a rant.

“Stacy!” Brea cried in surprise. “I didn’t even think YOU knew it yet.”

Stacy grinned. “It’s not hard to miss when you’re a woman. I know why I like to argue with him. Now if you’re a boy you’re nearly always going to be clueless.” Stacy said wisely. “But…” she continued “he did kiss me.”

“What? When?” Brea asked loudly.

“Earlier when I was looking for you. We argued of course and out of nowhere he moves in and kisses me.”

“So…how was it.”

“I don’t have much to judge off but I felt pretty light headed.” Stacy answered causing Brea to giggle.

“What happened next?” Stacy shrugged

“Oh you know he made some stupid remark about how he should be disgusted blah blah…so I bit his lip, gave him something to think about and left to keep looking for you.”

Brea was laughing quietly. “He sounds hopeless.”

“He really is but…he just stirs me.”

“Good.”

“So what are you going to do about Regulus?”

Brea thought for a moment. “Well this is my last night on patrol with him for this term. Let’s start with that.”

\--Later that night Brea stood in her usual spot waiting for Regulus. She admitted as she waited she felt better than she had in a long time after talking to Stacy, and finally having some direction on what she’s supposed to do to get them all out of this mess.

Finally Regulus walked out of the shadows. As usual he didn’t wait for her, striding past her quickly. Brea rolled her eyes and jogged to keep up. She didn’t say anything for a while, that is until they reach a hallway of empty unused classrooms. Then quick as lightning Brea pulled out her wand and all in one movement used it to open the door, and she shoved Regulus inside. She slammed the door and locked it, and cast muffalato.

“What the bloody hell are you-“. Regulus angry rant was cut off as Brea silenced him. He glared angrily and reached for his wand, which Brea snapped out of his hand. She then pushed him backwards until the backs of his knees hit the edge of a chair and he sat down clumsily.

“Stop cursing at me and sit down Black, I have something to say.” She said with every bit of authority she could muster. Brea took a moment to smooth her hair out of her face before she began to pace in front of him. He watched her, no longer glaring.

As he watched her pace he took in her appearance, truly allowed himself to look at her since the summer. Her hair was limp and looked darker than before, dark circles under her eyes and her face much thinner, as if she hadn’t been eating much. He knew she was grieving the death of her friends he just didn’t allow himself to think of her pain. Knowing there was nothing he could do for her.

She stopped her pacing and stood in front of him. “I’m angry with you, you know.” She glared at him. She almost smiled at the flash of panic that briefly crossed his eyes. ‘Good’ she thought ‘let him squirm.’ “I have been worried sick about you. When I first saw you were a prefect do you know how relieved I was to have an excuse to be around you? And then what do you do? You bloody ignore me. And why did you ignore me? Because of some utterly ridiculous arranged marriage?”

Brea was immensely satisfied by the shocked look on his face. She nodded and kept going. “That’s right I know. I’m not angry about something so trivial, I’m angry because you didn’t tell me. And I want to know why. Do you know how it felt to sit on the other side of those bookshelves and accidently overhear a group of immature gits gossip about how you hit the pureblooded jackpot with bloody Augusta Corrigan?” By now Brea was jabbing Regulus in the chest with her wand.

She stopped talking when Regulus gripped her wrist in a sudden move and Brea watched as Regulus closed his eyes and pulled her forward until she stood between his knees. Leaning forward he rested his head on her stomach and Brea automatically wrapped her arms around the back of his head holding her to him. After a moment Brea released the curse on Regulus. He took a shuddering breath against her  
"I'm to take the dark mark this summer..." He whispered. Brea gasped and pulled his head back so he would look up at her, tears already filling her anguished eyes.

"What?" She whispered harshly.

"I had to meet him...Malfoy took me. And I wasn't afraid, just angry and he could see it so he-he-"

"Shhh I know what he does, what he did to you."

"I tried not to show I was in pain but....you just lose all control. And-and the others...people I've known all my life, family even, they just stood there." Regulus swallowed thickly as a tear ran down Brea’s cheek.

"You must have been so alone...” Brea whispered.

Regulus lowered his eyes. "When I learned of their plan...” His silver eyes pale with guilt. "Every part of me wanted to stop them. I just didn’t know how. I didn’t even know WHO. And at the feast when I realized that they took your friends…"

Brea sniffed and nodded. She held him, his sharp jaw warm against her palms and looked into his eyes. "It’s going to be ok." She realized that it might be time to tell Regulus everything. "Regulus...I have so much to tell you. But before I can....I….actually I need to show you." Regulus tilted his head in confusion. "What I have to tell you… it would ruin our only chance for winning this... This invisible war…just I have a plan." Brea gave a huffed laugh and left Regulus arms to pace. Running restless hands through her hair and taking a deep breath.

“Not a solid plan…” She muttered more to herself than to him.

Regulus was thoroughly intrigued. “Brea…” he wanted to tell her to drop whatever foolish plan that would more than certainly get her killed only after being cruelly tortured. Yet when Brea stopped her pacing and gave him her full attention, her shoulders held solid and her jaw clenched in stubborn determination he knew any protestations would only incite her more. Regulus gave a deep groan and pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes tightly shut.

Brea’s expression softened into a gentle smile and she knelt at his feet, her hands resting on his knees.

When her eyes met his through his hair she said “I know you want me to walk away from this… I’m sure before the end is done I will have wished I had. But this…this is something I was meant to do.”

Regulus narrowed his eyes, “Brea that doesn’t even make sen-“

“Shush you Black.” Brea replied giving him a poke in his shoulder. “We haven’t enough time for me to explain it all tonight…just trust me alright? Now then tomorrow night we don’t have rounds together anymore but I need you to make an excuse to meet here tomorrow just before curfew.” She was being so incredibly bossy, Regulus couldn’t help agreeing without question. Brea stepped between Regulus knees and leaned down, brushing his hair out of his eyes with her free hand. “And you had better promise me you will never lose hope again.” She whispered. “I have a plan and it’s not easy. They only thing that helps me is the thought that someday you will have a long happy life” and she kissed him on the cheek.

When she started to pull away he used his hand to pull her back down by the back of her neck and he kissed her. It was soft and full of emotion. His hands held her by her waist and he murmured against her lips. “I’m sorry I was such an arse Brea. I had to. The thought that you wouldn’t want me if you knew…. Pretending you weren’t there was the only way I could cope…”

She nodded. “I thoroughly and completely forgive you for being ridiculous.” She kissed him once more quickly before standing up and smoothing her skirt. “We better get to our dorms.”

“You leave first.” He said in a strained voice. When she reached the door to leave Regulus called for her to stop. “I love you too” he said with a wink. Brea grinned and ran back to where he sat, leaned down and kissed him again.

“I know you do Black.” And then she left. Once she was gone Regulus simply sat there with a silly smiled that was full of hope and relief that he might just get the girl. His smile slipped some

“Not if my family has anything to say of it…” He whispered to the dark. His mind and heart were full of lightness at the thought of Brea’s affections for him but somewhere in his soul something was off and unsettled. “I have to make them see.”

Both the young wizard and witch had a restless night which involved little sleep and a raging torrent of their thoughts. Brea’s stomach in knots over telling her greatest secret and playing out every scenario over his reaction.

Regulus spent the night with his head aching over all the things that Brea could have stored up. Both were silent over breakfast each lost in their own thoughts, earning concerned glances from their friends.

Brea had a more difficult time avoiding Stacy’s questions. She was just unable to voice what was going on past her nervousness. So Brea kept quiet.

‘Let’s see how Regulus handles the news and then I will consider Stacy.’ As classes dragged along throughout the day Brea forced herself to think of something else besides the dread of putting the future in such potential peril. So naturally her mind brought up the declaration of love Regulus had made the night before. She had been surrounded by happiness yet she hadn’t said the words. She loved him didn’t she? Life, she was quickly finding out was not like the fairytales she had always believed in during the years before.

Love didn’t seem to blossom by men on white horses with swords and valiant words, but more it seemed by forbidden stolen dances and the desperate need to fill every moment together with happiness and memories.

As she had these brooding thoughts full of teenage angst, her stare glazed and seeing past Professor Flitwick as he demonstrated some charm or another, Brea’s world began to change. She sat up straighter, breathing began to pick up in shallow gasps. Her hands clenched spastically around her parchment and eyes turned wild. Her pupils were dilated until only a thin ring of amber was visible. The air seemed to crackle as before her the air began to distort into the jagged cracks she had seen only once before so long ago. The cracks were trembling with whispers floating through. In Brea’s frantic mind she was coherent enough to try and pick up the words so she shut her eyes and listened.

“…guidance is needed… the Son must act…” Brea frowned. “….more time...”

“Miss. Fox.” Brea jumped when she heard her name before concentrating again. ‘Why my name?’ She thought as she heard her name voiced again, only this time coming from next to her elbow. This time she slowly opened an eye and when she saw Professor Flitwick standing next to her desk, his arms crossed, she snapped her other eye opened and chanced a glance around the room.

The vibrating cracks in what she could only guess were had disappeared, and judging by the rest of the classroom she had been the only one to see them and hear the whispers. Every student had their curious and amused gazes on her. Stacy from the seat next to her had a single eyebrow lifted.

“Are you unwell Miss. Fox?” The Charms professor asked. Brea jumped when he spoke again. When she turned her wide eyes back to him he nodded toward her hands which she in turned looked at. They were still clenched around her blank parchment and shaking visibly.

Brea immediately took a steadying breath and released them, only to notice that she felt very cold but damp at the same time. This in turn led her to notice the smell surrounding her no longer smelled like dusty books and inkwells but of the ocean. Brea frowned at her hands and licked her lips only to taste salt. She took another deep breath and turned to her concerned professor.

“I’m-“. Her voice broke and she swallowed over her dry throat, tasting salt in the air and her mouth. “Actually sir, I’m feeling quite in need of a moment. May I be excused?” Professor Flitwick looked quite taken aback and stuttered to answer Brea.

“M-miss Fox that is highly…irregular. If you are sick I can send you to Mada-“

But Brea was already rushing from the room amid gasps from her peers and startled calls of her Professor. Brea knew there would be questions later and she would be surprised if she escaped with less than two weeks of detention but she had to escape. To get away from that classroom so she could process what had just happened.

Her stumbling run turned into a familiar stride that took her across the castle quickly. She ran through corridors and stairways, dodging students when she could. Her black robes and white hair whipped behind her as she ran past James and Sirius wasting a free period following Lily and a friend of hers from Hufflepuff at a distance. She slid to a stop in front of the Room of Requirement as its door appeared before her eyes. She rushed through, not caring what she found on the other side and was welcomed with an exact replica of her old room from Martha’s farm.

Brea only froze for split moment in time before a sob of longing and misery escaped her as she ran for the small bed which was once hers. The soft home sewn quilts surrounded her in a familiar scent of home. Taking deep inhales Brea calmed down and simply laid there with her eyes closed, running her hands over the familiar stitches. After a moment of collecting her senses Brea finally opened her eyes and exclaimed “What the shooting stars was that!” She then stood up and began to pace, her mind running through all the details she knew.

First off was that this was not the first time this phenomenon had occurred. When she turned eleven it had happened in the early morning. She had then played the event off as a dream from too much birthday cake and excitement. This time however she knew without a doubt it was not a dream. And apparently only she had experienced it. And this time there had been whispering and…and the atmosphere had changed.

Instead of the normal classroom it was as if she was at the beach only…different… colder. When she went this past summer break with Regulus, it had been sunny, and warm. The air smelled then like a calm ocean and warm sand. This however felt like a raging torrent of waves crashing on rocks and heavy, thick and cold.

A shiver went down her spine as she kept pacing. And the whispering voices. Another new factor. What did it mean? What did THEY mean? “Guidance? And just who is the Son?” Brea groaned and sat on her bed as her head began to fill with pressure.

The whispered words she was able to catch echoed endlessly through her mind and she grew frustrated that she was unable to grasp this…whatever it was that was going on. Her mind suddenly clicked that she needed to find answers and what better place to begin her research than the extensive Hogwarts Library.

With a flurry of new resolve Brea was for the second time that day sprinting through the castle as quickly as her uniform shoes would allow, only slowing when she reached the doors leading to her destination. She took a moment to straighten her robes and brush her hair over her steadied shoulders before entering.

No one paid the prefect any mind and Brea realized that the current class must still be droning on, limiting gossip about her episode. Lightened by the lack of stares she gave a little skip to the massive bookshelves before standing at a complete loss on where to start. Brea pounded her thoughts into order and decided to start with what she knew. Whatever had happened had to do with time and one thing she had in common with time is that she had traveled it. With this in mind she strode foreword to begin her search. Brea spent the remainder of the day in the back of the library pouring over large tomes and dusty books. The students began to give her a wide berth as she muttered to herself in frustration, hair beginning to stick out wildly from her hands knotting in it, amber eyes skimming page after page. She missed lunch and dinner as well as all her remaining classes. She finally noticed students leaving the library in a steady stream and in a headache driven daze she looked at her watch to notice the time.

“What!?” She squeaked out as she saw the late hour. She was due to meet Regulus in less than ten minutes. With a wave of her wand at the books they lifted and soundlessly floated to their vacant spots on the bookshelves. Brea was for the third time running before the first book had even found its resting place. She was near her destination when her name was called somewhere behind her.

Sliding to a stop on the slick stone floor and catching her breath she looked over her shoulder. A short Gryffindor boy who appeared to be in his second year was making his way to her as best he could manage. When the boy finally caught up to her he leaned over to catch his breath. Brea rested a hand on his shoulder and bent down slightly at the waist to see his eyes,

“Jimmy right?” She asked.

The boy nodded “Jims is what I’m called though,” He replied through his deep breathing.

Brea smiled and nodded. “Jims then. How may I help you?” She asked in a light voice, attempting to hide her impatience and frustration. However the wide brown eyes of young Jims helped her keep herself in check while the boy struggled between staring at Brea and fumbling in his robe pockets. Brea closed her eyes and recited defense stances as Jims finally pulled an envelope from his pockets only to drop it on the floor. However by the time he straightened and handed her the delivery she had her patient smile back and graciously accepted the envelope.

“I appreciate that Jims.” Brea said distractedly as she glanced over the contents. Jims threw her a smile that would someday be considered charming and ran off.

Brea rolled her eyes when she read the notice from her Head of House informing her that she must attend detention with Hagrid to Saturday afternoon.

“I don’t have time for this.” She muttered, slightly irritated that no one even considered asking why she had skipped classes. ‘What if something had been wrong with me?’ She thought lowly and stomping the rest of the way to the meeting spot which she was already more than ten minutes late for. Once she reached the classroom she went straight in, her foul mood apparent on her expression, causing a mildly irritated, at the witches’ tardiness, Regulus to pause before he complained about her tardiness.

“Brea are you alright?” He asked instead from the dark room.

She stopped herself from slamming the door and sighed. “Yes just…an incredibly long day. Excuse me for being late. I was held up by a second year.”

“Oh? Trouble?” Brea hesitated. Telling Regulus the contents of the letter would mean he would want to know why she received detention to which would mean an explanation on something to which she had no idea how to explain. Just when she was about to share her secrets more piled on. Suddenly she was revaluating what exactly she was going to tell Regulus.

A new plan surfaced in her mind and she just hoped it was enough to keep his thoughts occupied.

“Brea?” Regulus startled her and she realized she had been staring blankly over his shoulder.

She gave herself a good shake and finally answered. “Oh um I had asked Hagrid sometime ago if I could visit his hut to look through his magical creature encyclopedia….I just received his reply moments ago…”

Regulus watched her with an amused expression.

“And?” Brea’s eyes went a little frantic as she thought that he might not believe her

“And?” she asked back.

His answering chuckle and “What was his answer Fox?” had her sighing in relief that he bought her excuse and smiling back.

“Of course I’m going to see him this Saturday! Now come with me. Stay to the shadows and stay quiet.”

And before Regulus could inquire as to why she had slipped back from the classroom. Her hair standing out in the dark and her robes moving with a quiet rustle. Regulus attempted to follow the witch at a close pace. After a long winding path through the castle Brea finally stopped before an empty wall and to Regulus’ astonishment a plain wooden door appeared and Brea held it open for him.


	15. A Dangerous Mystery?

After a moment’s hesitation Regulus bent his head to duck through as he was slightly too tall for the small entryway Brea’s mind had thought up. Once he was inside she followed and allowed the door to melt away back into stone and turned to see Regulus slowly turning in a circle, eyes narrowed as he studied the newly created room. The room was large and plain, with only the wardrobe and several practice posts.

“Welcome to the Room of Requirement.” She said proudly as she walked over to him. “Whatever you need, this room can do it.”

“Amazing!” He exclaimed at last. “How did you know about this?”

Brea shrugged and knowing that the truth couldn’t be explained yet she let out another lie. “I explore…a lot! And I err needed a lavatory and here it was! But the next time I came to visit I was attempting to hide from Filch and instead of the girl’s bathroom I had mistaken it for it was instead a massive room filled with all kinds of objects hidden here over the years. After that I had the gist of what this room could do.” Chin in the air, eyes shining, she quickly spun and pulled out her wand, casting a nonverbal reducto at one of the dummies before immediately deflecting a jelly leg curse with a flick of her wand. She turned to Regulus with a wide grin, pleased to finally show off a bit, hoping to impress the wizard. His obviously shocked expression, complete with wide eyes and dropped jaw, had Brea warm with pride. “You are also in my favorite practice room.”

Regulus managed to get out “You-you’re what? You’ve been coming in here to practice dueling?” Causing Brea to chuckle with a shrug. In her prideful pleasure, she didn’t notice the increasing anger in Regulus tone.

“Every moment I could!”

“Alone?”

“Of course alone! You know the amount of trouble someone could find with this room?”

“Brea that dummy attacked you back! What if you were seriously injured? How could you do something so… so carelessly idiotic?” Regulus advanced toward her.

Brea scoffed and walked to the cabinet. “If I received injuries then obviously I needed to practice more. It’s a good way to work on defense, offensive, and even healing.” Her nonchalance to her own safety baffled him.

“How can you be so careless with your own wellbeing Brea?”

She didn’t look at him but shrugged. Growing increasingly impatient with his irrational scolding. “I’m unafraid of a bit of action and I wasn’t being carless, I needed to practice.” She said quietly.

Regulus didn’t notice the way her shoulders had tensed. “Bloody hell Brea its only dueling club!”

“No Regulus it’s not just dueling club!” Brea whirled on him. Her eyes dark and upset. “You seem to have forgotten there is a war-“. She cut off as he took a threatening stance and his voice dropped to a growl.  
Regulus could no longer hold back the words. Something about Brea fighting in this battle… just felt wrong. It didn’t fit. He had to get her away from it by any means. “I know very well where the front lines of this war are Brea. While you’ve been fighting for practice and working in muggle shops I’ve been-I’ve been in the presence of evil so suffocating it would be easy to break you.”

Brea couldn’t help the sharp intake at the hurt his words brought her. She suddenly had her eyes opened that there was no possible way she could share her burden. He didn’t believe in her.

Her shoulder stayed firm but the fight had drained out of them.

She cared for the wizard with black curly hair and grey eyes but he wouldn’t understand. All he knew was he should protect her no matter how skilled she was. He didn’t see her as a strong witch, only a girl who should stick to the sidelines. Her attempt at ending Voldemort…Regulus would just do something reckless in order to protect her. Her heart suddenly felt like breaking as she slowly turned to Regulus and struggled to remove all the emotions thrashing in her from appearing on her face.

“I’ve made a mistake.”

“Explain.” Regulus said as he took a step toward her.

“You should leave…I suddenly feel the need to practice pretending to be in a war.” Brea answered her voice cold and eyes wide. Regulus suddenly realized she was demanding his departure and took another step toward her.

“Brea-“, he went to make her see reason but when she lifted her arm and shouted another reducto curse at the dummy which exploded into hundreds of splintered fragments, he was cut off. Regulus snapped his spine straight and with an abrupt nod he left the room.

Once the door had disappeared again Brea didn’t allow herself to think, she simply turned back to the wardrobe. Still in the place she left them, were the journal and the sword. Firmly she lifted the sword which fit her grip but was quite heavy, and took a fumbling stance. Amber eyes turned a deep brown with determination and she took her first swing through the empty air.

The arc was clumsy and Brea stumbled with the force of the weight but she kept up the haphazard swings and uneven jabs until the morning was early and her hands were raw.

Finally she set the sword back in its place and with hands shaking from exertion she picked up the ancient book. Touching the silver letters softly. After a moment she put the book in her bag before staring at the sword. Deciding she wasn’t ready to carry such a valuable weapon she closed the doors on it and left the room.

By the time she reached Gryffindor tower her arms were aching more than her legs ever had and she felt weak from missing so many meals. Pretending her heart didn’t ache just as much, she fell into her bed with a deep seated sigh; grateful that tomorrow was Saturday and fell asleep instantly, a humming Gred by her ear.

The next morning despite her exhaustion and late night before Brea was forced to wake early as she heard Stacy rummaging in the bathroom and groaned.

“A bit quieter if you please!” Brea grumbled and pulled her blankets over her head.

“Tsk tsk not so fast.” Stacy said in determination coming from the bathroom to pull the blankets from Brea’s bed. “I was up late most of the night and there was a suspiciously absent roommate.” Stacy said with a jaunty hand on her hip. Brea squeezed her eyes closed and breathed deeply in the winter air. She knew telling Stacy what had happened with Regulus would just open up more questions and annoying demands. Sick with telling another lie to the only friend she really had she promised herself that after this was finished she would make it up to Stacy and never lie again.

“I wasn’t feeling good at all yesterday. It’s why I left charms yesterday.”

Stacy waited a pause before impatiently asking “So? Where did you go? I checked the hospital wing and here. No little foxes anywhere to be found.” Brea decided to keep as close to the truth as she could,

“I went to the library hoping it would help me feel better. It relaxes me as you know. When that failed…I went somewhere quiet and isolated. When I fell asleep I lost track of the time.” Brea finished her half lie with her eyes still closed and her breath held.

“Are you feeling better?” Stacy asked in concern. Brea finally looked at her friend and nodded.

“I received detention today starting at noon with Hagrid though.” Stacy let out a low whistle

“That’s rough. No more leaving class like that! It really freaked me out.” Brea looked at Stacy, perplexed. Stacy sat on the edge of the bed and looked at Brea seriously.

“Your eyes were white for a few seconds, like completely snow white. I don’t think anyone else saw them since it was only for such a short moment.” Brea tried not to show any reaction to this new news but she was honestly beginning to feel nervous about the whole situation once again. Brea’s stomach felt sick. “That’s not all either.” Stacy said. She stood up and walked to her dresser and picked up a folded parchment and handed it to Brea.

Brea noticed it was the parchment she had crumpled in her hand the day before. Slowly opening the folds and feeling more than a bit terrified of what she would find she finally read the words clearly written in her own handwriting. “First is the false fantasy, Second the soul ripping vengeance, Third is the never-ending story. The sisters-” Brea stopped reading as the rest of the second sentence turned into undecipherable scribble.

Brea whispered the words several times, trying desperately to understand what they meant and what they had to do with the strange occurrences. She finally looked up at Stacy feeling confused and helpless.

“I haven’t a clue as to why any of this happened. I just remember feeling ill and running from the classroom.” Stacy gave her best supportive best friend smile and leaned down to give Brea a hug.

“Well if it happens again we are going to see Pomfrey, understand?” Brea wrapped her arms around Stacy tightly and nodded. She may be feeling bewildered by her “episode” and heartbroken at having to push Regulus away, but she could always count on Stacy to support her. Even if her best friend didn’t really know what she was supporting.

Letting Stacy go Brea slid from the bed with the excuse that she was going to go running before breakfast but she actually had plans to stop by the kitchen and take some food up to the Room of Requirement. If she was going to kill Voldemort’s pet basilisk she was going to need all the practice she could get. The castle elves were kind enough to give her a basket of muffins and fruit, and Brea's empty stomach pains told her she was going to devour each bite. She spent the entire morning fumbling tiredly with the sword and tripping over her own feet. Her frustration rising she gave up, sorely tempted to throw the sword against the wall.

“Good thing it’s time to visit Hagrid for detention.” She muttered to herself dejectedly and put the sword back in its place. Once she made sure her appearance was passable she left to endure her punishment.

Spending time with Hagrid was never terrible, even when it was expected to be punishment. The two spent the afternoon tromping through the Forbidden Forest looking for stray thestrals and various potion ingredients for Slughorn. Brea was unable to see the horse like beasts but Hagrid taught her the signs to look for when they were near.

Each would take turns telling a story, Brea about her farm animals, and Hagrid about his childhood years and about growing up a half breed. She learned where the protective wards ended much by accident, promising Hagrid to keep the secret she changed the subject back to the caretakers early years. Brea delighted in learning that the old care taker had gone to school with Professor McGonagall.  
“A beauty she had been. And full of fire! Weren’t nothing that witch couldn’t do.” Hagrid went on as he helped Brea step over a fallen log in their path.

“Hagrid that’s amazing! She’s indomitable now I can only imagine what she was like when she was so young. Wish I’d had the opportunity!” Brea exclaimed, imagining a young and fierce McGonagall in a point hat.

Hagrid chuckled and shook his head at his memories. “T’were one boy. Tom Riddle. Cool and collected as you please. Knew how to charm anyone. Except her. Get her right riled up when he’d sweet talk a professor into some shenanigan of his. Always got his way and she couldn’t stand it. Often suspected she had the fancies for him but that Riddle fella…. He never saw none of them witches.” Brea let Hagrid ramble on but her thoughts turned to the name Tom Riddle.

“Were you friends with this Riddle as well Hagrid?”

“Course not. No he was as Slytherin as they come right down ter the full blood prejudice. Don’t believe he was Pureblooded himself if yer ask me.” Brea tilted her head in curiosity. “See I heard whispers… prolly shouldn’t be tellin you…”

“Oh please Hagrid you can’t keep me in suspense!” Brea cried in protest.

Hagrid looked down at the small witch before him and let out a deep sigh. “Alright alright. There were whispers he grew up in a muggle orphanage.” At Brea’s raised eyebrow Hagrid rushed to continue. “That’s not what were so suspicious. There even more whispers that the Riddle fella were an direct descendant of Salazar Slytherin himself! And if that weren’t enough there were whispers… always the whispers that he practice terrible dark arts… on other students!” Hagrid ended in a harsh whisper.

Brea stopped in her tracks with wide eyes. “Hagrid that’s quite fantastic I’ll tell you!” She tried to push off Hagrid’s story as purely that. A story to get her excited. Yet she was drawn in none the less.

“Hagrid….whatever happened to this… Tom Riddle?”

Hagrid had stopped and turned back to look at Brea. The half giant shrugged and shook his head. “Don’t know. One day he were working at Borgin and Blotts, the next no one not even ole Slughorn had known t’where he got off to.”

Brea began to walk again. “That’s a very compelling mystery you got me thinking about Hagrid.”

“We all got our theories lass. Now then see that last Thestrals tracks? Let’s get er roundup and get back to the castle. Sun’ll be settin soon.”

 

Over the next week Brea found herself at war with herself. Constantly attempting to put Hagrid’s story out of her mind and concentrate on her studies. Brea found herself fall further from her usual high standard, in fact she even failed to raise her hand in class so great was her distraction. However few noticed Brea’s lack of class participation. The only person to have any success in bringing Brea’s mind back to the current was Regulus surprisingly brief as it was.

Brea’s usual trek from the greenhouses back to the castle seemed to take forever. Course she did not realize that her wondering mind had her walking slower than the other Gryffindors and Ravenclaws whom they shared the class with. She wasn’t quite sure why this Tom Riddle was on her mind. Possibly the thought that a student actually used other students for practice of the Dark Arts. He sounded… dangerous. Interesting and oh so very exciting. ‘I wonder if he would be able to teach me anything… defensively of course’ she thought to herself. Lost with making a mental list of possible ways to track down this Mr. Riddle had her distracted to the point of nearly running into someone.

“Oh my! Pard…” Brea yelped as she stumbled back to avoid running into Regulus. Brea trailed off and stared up at Regulus with wide wild eyes and swallowed a hard knot. Her eyes searched his face which he kept regally aloof except for the slight frown. Brea watched in slow motion as he turned his head to look behind him before he turned back. His eyes never again looked at her and she felt the jolt as he walked by, his arm knocking into her shoulder, causing her to loose balance slightly. With shock Brea realized he hadn’t been alone. As Regulus walked away she finally noticed his linked hand with Augusta, whom gave Brea a cold empty glance over her shoulder. Suddenly Brea was knocked around again as the rest of the Slytherin boys from their year blatantly pushed into her roughly with their own shoulders, obviously going out of their way. Brea still too shell shocked to do anything about their childish behavior allowed it till the last boys push sent her into the snow. The crunch of footsteps let Brea know it wasn’t over yet, but when no attack came she looked up through her tangled hair to see Anthony staring down at her, derision covered his expression and he shook his head.

“Just what have you done now Fox?” his voice grated, causing her to flinch. Anthony gave her no time to reply has he stalked past her. Brea was left sitting in the cold snow.

‘How could I do that? How could I just stand there, too upset about bloody Black, to do anything other than get pushed around? And why is he suddenly even cozier with Augusta than before? Pox on the lot of em.’

Brea finally stood to make her way to the library, thankful this was her free period. Brea realized she hadn’t noticed the change with Regulus and his fiancé because she had been consumingly distracted as of late by Tom Riddle, and made a decision. The mystery of Mr. Riddle was just what she needed to distract herself from thinking of Regulus like a lovesick fool.

Her curiosity eventually led the witch to the trophy room and there on the wall dedicated to centuries of Head Boys and Girls was a golden plaque engraved with Tom Riddle as Head Boy and Minerva McGonagall for Head Girl of the year 1944 – 1945.

“Well least I know for sure he was real…” Brea whispered as she touched the case glass. “How about we find out who you are.”

Immersed in the far corners of the library every moment not spent in class, Brea’s research of the family name Riddle led her to absolutely nowhere. She had searched every genealogy book she could dig up and had found no such name anywhere. This only increased to rile her up a bit more than usual to the point where students for the second and third days in a row were avoiding her book and parchment covered table. Hair turning wild as she twisted its strands unconsciously, a streak of ink stained her chin, her robe laid in a pile next to her chair and her uniform sleeves rolled up to her elbows with shirt tails untucked from her skirt.

Whispers of “Mad Fox.” Were beginning to circulate but unable to break through Brea’s otherwise obsessed mind. Whether it was the simple need for a distraction from her other problems or some unknown force driving the witch to find more answers, was unknown which.

The sun was setting late on Sunday when Brea dropped her latest book, full of nonsense, on top of the cluttered table. She hadn’t used her voice except to mutter to herself occasionally, her fingers were ink stained and covered in dust, exhausted, and utterly at her wits end.

“Perhaps I should just ask McGonagall… or even Dumbledore! He was…” Brea began to shift parchments of notes around until she found the one she needed. “Ah yes… Professor of transfiguration at the time. Dippet was Headmaster… no I can’t do that. Whatever reason would they have to answer my rabid curiosity?” Brea slumped in her chair and blew at the wisps of hair falling in her eyes.

“Think Fox.” Brea went back over everything she knew starting with her conversation with Hagrid.

“Salazar Slytherin! I’ve got it!” Brea exclaimed and she began to dig through her hoard of dusty library books.

“Ah-ha here you are!” The voice of Stacy didn’t even pause Brea as she picked up the heavy book she had been digging for. However Stacy stepped in and pushed the book back down.

“Nuh uh I don’t think so.” Stacy said as she grabbed Brea’s hands and pulled her protesting best friend up to standing. “No. I don’t know what needs to be researched so bad this late on a Sunday. I have allowed you to bury yourself in the dark reaches of this library for more than a day. Now then let’s put all this away, go get something to eat, and you can continue looking next weekend.”

Brea’s shoulders slumped and only then did she realize how stiff her body was from such long hours of sitting. That’s when she realized Stacy was right and with a sigh of dejected defeat she waved her wand to move the books back to their place.

Stacy nodded in satisfaction and put a graceful arm around the shorter witches’ shoulders and led her out of the library.

“Now then I’m sure whatever is so important that you’d turn into a hermit for can wait. Besides Sirius wants us to come watch a late night Quidditch match. Most of the House of Gryffindor will be playing.”  
Brea perked up at the thought of flying. ‘I hadn’t been on a broom since… ugh’ thoughts of Regulus which had been pushed back all day came back to the front. She allowed any thought of flying leave immediately, blinked back tears and nodded, hiding her face with her hair. “Sounds brilliant! I’m willing to watch Sirius take a bludger to the side of his head.”

Stacy’s wonderful laugh turned heads in the hallway as they walked.

\--Despite her lack of worries that late Sunday evening, the moment she awoke on Monday every single one came rushing back at her. With the load of studying for O.W.L.S. She knew researching more on Tom Riddle would have to wait till the next Saturday. However instead of running out on the castle grounds, she spent her time before dawn in the Room of Requirement swinging the sword of Gryffindor around. Determined to get her mind back on track, Brea still hadn’t managed to find the right form yet her arms were beginning to get used to the weight.

During the week Brea could feel her relationship with Regulus had changed drastically. If she thought before that he was ignoring her out of shame, then now he acted as if she didn’t exist at all. Whenever before he would accidently lock eyes with her own, now since their row in the Room of Requirement, he practically made it a point to let her know she didn’t matter to him.

Brea told herself over and over not to worry about it. That Regulus was simply upset that she was so willing to put herself in danger, and his family is forcing him to shower Augusta with attention. ‘It’s perfectly reasonable to be upset about something like that right?’ but as the week wore on and there had been no change in Regulus attitude Brea herself began to come increasingly upset.

Brea made one last effort on the Following Friday to get a bit of acknowledgment from the stubborn Black, when she sent a semi anonymous note via morning owl post. The note didn’t say anything other than: “Your nobility is showing. –Alara, B. F.” Yet instead of the wakeup call to how arrogant and callous he was acting, Regulus immediately crumpled the small parchment, tossed into an empty bowl, and there in the middle of breakfast, used his wand to incinerate the note into a little puff of smoke. He then promptly straitened his robes and turned to a now seventh year McNair and struck up a conversation.

‘This is ridiculous! I’m the one who should be acting as if he doesn’t exist and who does he think he is talking with my… my torturers as if their old chums.’ Brea thought angrily as she watched the morning’s events unfold from her seat at the Gryffindor table. Her thoughts were darkly shooting cruses at the wizard across the great hall to the point where she didn’t notice Remus talking to her. That is until Remus finally poked the preoccupied witch in her shoulder, bringing a startled jump from her.

“Ah there you are.” Remus said with a weak smile.

Brea looked towards the forever cursed yet incredibly kind and gentle Remus, her eyes warmed and a smile finally reached her lips. “Good morning Remus. What can I do for you?”

Remus shifted and cleared his throat nervously. “Next week is our dueling tournament. I thought maybe this weekend we could go over a few last minuet strategies and wand movements…”

“Oh! That’s a grand idea. But I have this…sort of side project I’ve been trying to research…” Brea drifted off when she saw the self-pity enter his expression yet he tried to shrug off her rejection.

“I apologize Brea I never considered you would have other plans.”

Brea immediately felt guilty and thought around for a way to fix it. “Well I could use a fresh set of eyes on all those dusty books so….if you don’t mind helping me on a lead I have then the moment we get done we can work on our dueling for next week.”

Brea sighed in relief as Remus light brown eyes brightened again and he immediately agreed to meet her the next morning ready to dig through books. Brea’s smile brightened and she left the Great Hall, arms looped with Stacy and Sirius, trailing behind Remus and James, laughing over her shoulder toward Marleen McKinnon as she told a story loud enough to hear from down the hallway about Sirius latest plan to get Hufflepuff seventh year beauty Lara to snog him. Brea realized that she may not be close with them like she was with Stacy but she was eternally grateful the sixth years took her and Stacy in after losing Torrin and Rose. These Gryffindors made sitting in the common room bearable. And Brea knew that when she was off working on her mad scheme, leaving Stacy on her own, that Lily was often there to keep her best friend occupied. Brea looked to her side at Stacy as they waited for James to give the Fat Lady their password, and met the eyes of Stacy. They both shared a smile indicating they were possibly thinking along the same lines as Sirius pulled them inside their tower.

\-- After learning a new side to her favorite Professor, Brea couldn’t help the idolized stare she would focus on Professor McGonagall. She supposed that once you took away the years of wrinkles, iron gray hair, and years of experience you were left with a tall, beautiful, headstrong witch. ‘And Head Girl. Amazing.’ Brea thought with a sigh, watching as the Professor of her thoughts reprimanded a boy from Slytherin for transfiguring his inkwell into a muddy shoe. Throughout the afternoon Friday class Stacy would sometimes elbow Brea into snapping out of her idolizing daze and return to her notes until Stacy was finally fed up.

“Alright you. What’s going on?”

Brea attempted to look innocent yet couldn’t quite pull it off as her eyes strayed to McGonagall’s pointy and feathered hat. ‘I want one just like that.’ She thought instead of answering her friend.

“Oi! Answer me you git.” Stacy demanded of her distracted friend.

Brea blushed and looked down when McGonagall looked their way briefly.

She glanced at Stacy then back to the professor. “It’s just…she’s amazing isn’t she?”

Stacy looked from Brea to the Professor multiple times, a look of sever bewilderment on her face.

“Brea? Do you fancy our Professor?”

Brea sputtered until she could shout a very loud “NO!” drawing the attention of everyone in class including Regulus and McGonagall.

McGonagall looked up from a parchment she was now holding, her eyebrows high.

Brea slumped down in her chair. “Stacy almost burned her eyebrows off…err she was using the wrong wand movement…” she said hoping to cover her outburst. Most seemed to buy it but Brea heard a few mutter “Mad Fox” as they turned back to their studies. Brea sighed in relief as McGonagall ignored her and went back to her previous activity. She turned a grin of triumph toward Stacy but the dark scowl on her friends face had Brea sinking even lower.

“I’m sorry! I had to say something!” Brea attempted to placate Stacy but as the dark look she was receiving turned even more ferocious Brea stumbled over words in order to explain.

“It’s just… Hagrid told me how amazing McGonagall was when they were here as students. Did… did you know they were in the same year? And that she was Head Girl? He said she was a force to be reckoned with! Can you imagine?” Brea whispered quickly and hopeful that Stacy would be understanding.

Stacy simply stared at Brea for a moment, very unsure on what to make of it all. So instead she rolled her eyes and turned back to her work. But not without whispering back to Brea “you truly are mad my friend.”

Brea nodded, “I quite agree.”

Saturday dawned bright and cheery, full of fluffy snow, and chattering students on the way to breakfast. Brea was eager to get to the library with Remus, determined to try this last lead. Eager to the point she had rushed through her plate of eggs and sausage, and was now sitting astride the tables’ bench next to Remus, staring impatiently as he ate his own food at a leisurely pace, taking breaks between bites to make comments to his friends or laugh at their prank ideas. Stacy hadn’t made it down yet but her plans were to help Lily pick her dress for Slughorn’s Christmas Party. Brea impatiently pulled on the sleeve of his knit sweater.

Remus finally laughed and stood up. “Alright alright I’m done… wait.” He said and bent down for one last bite of toast which he barely got since Brea was now pulling him away from the table. Her frown was determined while he chuckled and attempted to walk fast enough to keep the witch happy.

As Brea filled her favorite library table with books and stacks of parchment notes she quickly explained to Remus what she was looking for. “I recently learned of a former student here by the name of Tom Riddle. Former headboy to be precise.” Remus paid close attention as Brea handed him a parchment she had written a few details about the wizard. Remus frowned when he read “knowledgeable about the dark arts.”

“Brea are you sure you should be looking into this fella? Sounds dangerous.”

Brea looked up from popping her interlaced fingers, preparing to lift heavy books. She hesitated and mentally face palmed. ‘Tch how could I forget to think up a back story for wanting to research a possible dark wizard.’ Brea ruffled her hair, sheepishly thinking fast for a viable excuse. ‘Writing a defense paper is too obvious…’

“Well you see… I plan to become an Auror! Yes! And I was hoping to find this Tom Riddle because someone… someone I can’t name, I promised them so don’t ask who, told me Riddle had legendary skill when they were in defense together and id like him to give me training.” Brea ended her barely coherent sentence with a held breath, watching Remus as he narrowed his eyes.

He finally rolled them, opting to just help her so they can get to practicing their duel. “Right. Just show me where you left off.” Brea sighed in her small victory before shoving a book across the table.  
“Well rumor had it he was a direct descendant of Salazar Slytherin. I know, but he sounds brilliant.” Brea finished when Remus looked at her pointedly. “But the problem I’ve had is there is no one with the name Riddle anywhere. Not even Tom, except on the list of Headboys. This leaves me to believe his father was not a wizard, and if the rumors of his not so pureblood parentage were true then that makes sense!” Remus watched as Brea rambled out her findings, all while she shoved parchments around and opened books to seemingly random pages. “What we need to do is find Slytherins line and follow it to the correct date. Right?” Brea looked up at Remus.

Remus was presently berating himself for getting into this situation but at Brea’s wide eyed look he rushed to mutter an agreement and buried himself in the book Brea had pushed under his nose.  
“How will this information help you find him?” The cursed wizard asked, scanning pages quickly.

Brea thought for a moment. “If we can find his mum and dad or any close relative, possibly they would know his whereabouts, or if he’s even still alive. According to my source, Tom Riddle disappeared shortly after graduating Hogwarts.” Remus nodded absentmindedly, already focused on the job ahead.

An hour later Brea began to feel frustrated beyond anything she had felt before. Even more so than when she was eleven, scared, and alone. Learning Hermione had failed to teach her anything of real use for her apparent time traveling situation. Every genealogy book she had managed to dig up either didn’t go back past the thirteenth century, or it ended more than a hundred years before. Brea looked up with a huff and noticed Remus was frowning as well. In his hands was a book had taken from Regulus’s room the night she left 2011, Natures Nobility: A Wizarding Genealogy.

“What’s the matter Remus?”

Remus frowned and beckoned Brea to look at the page. “I’ve noticed whole pages missing from multiple books. See here? In this section there is a list of pureblood noble house names in alphabetical order. The page number jumps from 212 to 215.” Brea’s expression was quizzical and she encouraged Remus to continue. “After checking several other books which had the same alphabetical listing I noticed a trend.” He ran a finger along the page of names. “The pages missing are listed to have pureblood names beginning with G.”

Brea’s own eyes widened as she picked up on another detail. “Look Remus. The page wasn’t ripped out either. There’s no edging. It was vanished. As if it never existed.” Excitement bubbled in her. “Oh this is fantastic Remus! Fantastic magic! Imagine-“ Brea was interrupted by Remus turning to grab her shoulders.

“Brea this isn’t fantastic news.” He said with concern in his voice. “Someone went to great lengths to hide a name. Someone with great power too it would seem.”

Brea frowned. She knew Remus was simply being cautious but this was a fabulous clue! Someone, and she had her suspicions on who, went through a great deal of effort to wipe a family name from any book they came across. A family name beginning with G. Brea fought a grin as she touched the page. She knew Remus would attempt to interfere if she admitted to wanting to take the search further. With that in mind she gave Remus a half sided hug as a way of saying thank you.

“You were fantastic Remus. Thank you!”

Remus shrugged sheepishly and helped Brea gather the books and notes from the table. Brea wanted to take his mind from bringing up her ill-advised search so instead she brought up gossip.  
“Do you think Lily will take James to Slughorn’s Christmas party this year?”

Remus chuckled and shook his head. “Doubt it. She caught him slipping frog warts into Snape’s perfect amortentia. They may not curse each other like they used to but James still can’t pass an opportunity to raise some trouble.”

Brea rolled her eyes. She could handle pranks, just not from James if he ever wanted Lily to take him serious.

Remus cleared his throat nervously as he followed Brea from the library once their objects were put away. “Are you planning to go with anyone this year?”

Brea paused in thought. “Last year I took Sirius but I had to twist his toe nails to get him to agree.” She replied. She hadn’t even considered taking someone but she now realized Regulus would be there and she seriously doubted they would be sneaking off for a private dance this time around. Brea felt herself go cold when she realized Regulus would more than likely make an appearance with Augusta on his arm. The thought of facing them alone… Brea looked up at Remus and realized he had been watching her with patience.

“Would you go? With me that is?” Brea blurted out.

Remus tilted his head slightly to the side, a slight blush stained his cheeks. “My pleasure.” He agreed.

Brea gave a slight smile. She liked Remus well enough. As a friend to her dismay. He was kind, intelligent, handsome, and the various scars made him roguish. But Brea knew further on in time there was a beautiful witch that would bring light to his dark curse. Giving his arm a squeeze she pulled him toward the doors leading to the cold snow covered lawn.

“Come along Lupin. Let’s get practicing. I want our spells picked before lunch.”


	16. True Colors of a Make Believe Heroine

The next week proved to be busy for all students, but none more so than the fifth years. Brea’s schedule was packed full with last minute studying and exam taking, preparing for her duel, finding a dress for the Christmas party, and practicing with a heavy sword. The first two tasks sapped a great deal of her time, particularly when she had to keep Stacy on track as well. Practicing with the sword was proving tedious and slow, but Brea knew it was her best chance at ending this nightmare. She needed the venom for the sword and if a twelve year old Harry Potter could do it then so could she.

As for her upcoming duel, she spent her breakfasts, lunches, and dinners seated next to Remus, their heads bent together over notes while they furiously wrote strategies before scribbling them out and starting over. Remus found out quickly that Brea was immensely controlling when it came to how they should dance out their duel. She expected nothing less than perfection and she was extremely protective over their plans.

Many a time much to Remus amusement, Sirius or James would try to eavesdrop on their whispering, or snatch a discarded strategy, but Brea was always ready with a threat, usually involving a piece of cutlery or a choking jinx. He found he enjoyed spending time with Brea, even if the excuse was for an extracurricular class. He found her ideas intelligent, her willingness to lead, exciting if a bit reckless. ‘She’s rather pretty now too.’ He thought as he watched her go on about which spell she liked best.

He remembered back when he first met her in his second year. An unhealthy shade of pale, with tangled equally pale hair, skinny and short, all knees, elbows and wide eyed innocence. Now five years later, she was still all knees and elbows, her tangled hair usually held back in a French braid, courtesy of Anastasia he suspected. He studied her face and noticed the remnants of a summer tan leaving behind freckles across her nose but he supposed her eyes had changed the most. Their usual golden brown, but where he believed naivety was before, was now full of some element of fierceness or determination.  
Brea looked up from her notes in the middle of her explanation on why duelers properly bow before their opponent, believing Remus stare indicated his rapt attention, gave a wide smile before taking a large bite of custard pie. Remus noticed he found her smile immensely attractive, she smiled with her whole face, eyes shined and teeth nearly perfect. Before he could help himself, began to ponder whether he fancied the little witch. Remus wasn’t as invested in the upcoming duel as Brea obviously found herself, yet here he was listening to her excitedly chatter on about defense this and defense that. He had never allowed any feelings for anyone to develop….his curse solidified his refusal to open himself up to their rejection. Yet he immediately felt… well he felt happy that Brea wanted to go to Slughorn’s pompous Christmas party with him. He certainly hoped Brea wasn’t feeling the same way. He had always suspected she harbored feelings for Padfoot’s younger estranged brother, yet he had noticed how the past couple of weeks she didn’t even look in the other Blacks direction. ‘And she has been spending an increased amount of time with me,’ he allowed himself to think with a frown.

“Remus?” Brea asked in caution. “You all right there Lupin?”

Remus shook himself back to the conversation, attempting to cover his distraction and the resulting blush. “I agree.” He said in a hurry.

Brea stared at him, causing him to shift his eyes away toward the ceiling guiltily. Brea looked to Stacy whom was seated across from him to see if she knew what Remus was talking about. Stacy unfortunately had been encouraging James as he tried to fit more boiled radishes in his mouth than Peter, rather than paying attention to Remus and Brea. This had Brea rolling her eyes and pulled Remus to stand with her.

“Come along Lupin. We have a duel to win.” They left behind Stacy complaining loudly about losing her bet with Marleen.

\--And win they did. With Brea’s clever arsenal of mild yet effective jinxes and curses, and Remus supportive and accurate use of reflective blocks and well-timed stuns, the two defeated each opponent they faced. They left the Slytherins sans Anthony particularly sullen, their glowers could be felt from across the room. Brea was sure to hit McNair with a rather nasty stinging hex, and if she had to guess by the gleam in his eye, he was going to want retribution. But thoughts of a vengeful future Death Eater became the last of her worries as she caught James’s wand with her free hand after at last successfully hitting him with an expelliarmus. James was indeed quite talented and did not go down easy. Brea reveled in the satisfaction of winning another duel, and accepted her praise from the professor and cheers from Stacy. Brea smiled widely as Remus gave her a hug.

When their professor released them from their last meeting of the year, Sirius picked Brea up onto his back, taunting James as the students filed toward the door.

“Miss Fox a moment?” Professor Estrana called, halting their progress. Several students let out low ooos as Brea slid from Sirius’s back and made her approach to the short professor. He had tan skin, with black hair and eyes, middle aged and a round waistline. Estrana was a stickler for rules and Brea had a feeling her stinging hex at McNair had crossed a line with him. Brea’s only excuse was she just couldn’t pass up the opportunity to get a small amount of pay back for the scars on her hand. However Brea was pleasantly surprised with instead of frowning in disappointment, the professor smiled and looked rather pleased.

“Phenomenal dueling there Brea. I believe you are very talented.”

Brea flushed at the praise, she didn’t get it often. “Thank you Professor Estrana.” She said quietly.

“I’ll admit you were bold when you used that stinging hex, but something tells me he deserved it.”

Brea didn’t reply, only subconsciously rubbed the back of her right hand. No one could see them with her glamour charm in place, but she could feel the deep scars protruding from the thin skin.

“But that’s not what I wanted to discuss with you. Have you considered putting your skills to use, once you leave Hogwarts?”

Brea knew better than to make plans that far out but she shook her head anyways.

“Oh! There are many ways you could use them!” Estrana gushed in excitement, walking quickly to his neat desk and pulling out several parchment brochures. “You would make a ferocious Auror, or even a curse breaker. If that’s too conforming to you then there’s always working as a free agent. But if I could recommend….. With your leadership quality… might I suggest teaching? I would be most happy to write up a letter of recommendation for apprenticeship…. You wouldn’t be able to start until you sit your N.E.W.T.S. but well… allow me to do it anyway. That way the option is there. I’ll write one for Auror training too. There that’s settled now go on. I hear there’s some Christmas party of Slughorn’s. Go go go.” And before Brea knew it she was standing, frozen with astonishment, in the hallway. She had never realized how much of a talker Estrana was. Once he got started Brea never had chance to get a word in edge wise!

“Let me guess… eight weeks of detention cleaning portrait frames.” Sirius said lazily from next to her. His words startled Brea from her amazed state and she looked around for the first time since being ejected from the defense classroom. Around her were the fours Marauders, Stacy, and a younger Gryffindor by the name of Candon. Brea shook her head and grinned.

“Not at all. He wanted to tell me how pleased he was that I put Prongs in his place, and had you squealing like a little piggy Padfoot.”

Sirius pulled Brea’s head into a headlock and ruffled her hair until she laughed and pinched at his sides. “Ah see there you cheeky girl who’s squealing now!” He laughed uproariously as their friends laughed and egged him on. This led to James and Stacy reenacting the battle with dramatic deaths and battle cries. Students passing by in the hallway either made a wide berth around the commotion, or the stared on in amusement. Lily finally broke them apart as she came running around the corner.

“There you lot are!” she cried when she saw her group of housemates joking in the hall. Her robes billowed around her ominously as she walked with a quick pace and fierce scowl pointed at James. “Stacy, Brea I have been searching for you for ages now! We were to meet in the dorm to get ready!”

Brea pulled herself from Sirius arm, her hair a mass of tangles and knots and gave Lilly an apologetic smile. “Sorry Lily. Lost track of time.”

Everyone stood in awkward silence, Lily staring angrily at Stacy and Brea, James staring longingly at Lily, Sirius rolling his eyes, Remus slowly inching away as Brea and Stacy looked around for an escape. Peter sneeze broke the silence and jumped Stacy into action. She grabbed the front of Brea’s uniform sweater and Lily’s hand and pulled them away from the awkward tension with James. “Let’s get to it then, it’s not like I’m going to the bloody party.”

\--This year instead of buying her own dress robes for the party, Brea borrowed one of Stacy’s many dresses. A good amount of time that could have been spent studying, was spent with Brea trying on dress after dress. She decided on a bright red dress with a ruffle peasant style at the top, the skirt falling just below her knees as Stacy was a bit taller than herself, and her white dress shoes from the year before still fit. Brea completed her dress with Stacy using both magic and muggle techniques to get her hair to keep the swept back style. Brea was sure to remember Martha’s crystal necklace and at the last second slipped the dragon hairpin from Charlie into her hair just above her ear.

Brea realized as she studied her appearance, freckles covered up with powder and eyes enhanced with makeup, that she hadn’t thought of home in quite a while now. She wondered if she ever got home if they would remember her. If she changed anything. Would she make their lives better or is ones fate set in stone? A question she used to ask herself often.

“You ready Fox?” Lily asked from behind her. Brea turned to see Lily in a lovely baby blue dress and shining red hair in a sophisticated bun. Stacy lounged on her bed, flipping through another of her many magazines.

“You look perfect Lily.” Brea said, pushing long lost thoughts of home away.

Lily passed on her thanks for the compliment, and passing her own on to Brea. ”Come on now, I hear Barry Finkle, the genius behind the improved brooms is here tonight. I am very much looking forward to discussing different broom cores with him.” Lily said. Stacy rolled her eyes and waved them goodbye. She had plans to track down Warwick to see if he had come to his senses yet and was ready to admit she was too good for him.

Brea and Lily walked from the dorm with linked arms down to the crowded common room. Remus stood near their stairs and had to swallow hard at Brea’s entrance and admitted that he did indeed fancy Brea a bit. She looked stunning all dressed up.

“You are beautiful Lily.” James said from beside him. Lily actually blushed and looked to Brea, pretending she didn’t hear.

“Come on its starting without us.” Lily said as she pulled Brea to the door. Brea sent an encouraging smile to James who looked utterly defeated and grabbed Remus dress robe sleeve as they passed him.

Once out in the hallway Remus offered both his arms in order to escort both witches to the dungeons.

“You two look perfectly wonderful tonight.” He said with his head turned toward Brea. Lily murmured her thanks then stayed quiet, obviously distracted, while Brea smiled up at Remus.

“Thank you! Stacy had her work cut out for her after the mess Sirius made of my hair the ruffian that he is!” Remus chuckled lightly before saying no more until the trio at last arrived at their potions professors’ party.

“Ah Lily and Brea! Good of you to come good of you indeed! You arrived just in time for the festivities! And who’s this with you eh? Mr. Lupin welcome!” Professor Slughorn boisterously greeted the students. He gestured around the already crowded room. “A great deal of guests for you to meet! Go on and enjoy.”

Brea was unsure what it was with the Hogwarts staff enjoying chatting their ears off, leaving no room for anyone to reply but she was warmed by his excitement. She looked to Lily who shrugged and left Brea and Remus behind as she noticed Mr. Finkle standing next to the record player. For a moment Brea and Remus stood rooted in place, both awkwardly wondering on what to do now. Neither really recognized many of the “influential” guests, and not very many students had arrived as of yet. Brea noticed Severus seated with Rayna as they both were both watching Lily cross the dance floor. Brea attempted to keep her observation of the party goers casual, but she could see Regulus had not yet arrived, if he arrived at all. A year since their private dance and she just didn’t believe this would be bearable to watch him dance with Augusta in merriment.

Remus began to fidget nervously beside her until he finally cleared his throat quietly. “Would you… like a refreshment Brea?” he asked hesitantly.

Brea realized her mouth was rather dry so she nodded her head vigorously. “I am feeling rather parched. Shall we?” With her hand resting in the crook of his arm still he led her to the refreshment bar, weaving through dancing couples. Brea turned back to watch them dance once Remus had handed her a small crystal cup with warm apple cider. She nearly choked on her sip when Regulus made his entrance, unsurprisingly with his arranged fiancé linked with him. Augusta looked coldly perfect, with her elegant hand resting in his. Brea felt jealousy fill her bones. She had seen them close together several times but here in a social setting the two were making an appearance as the others intended.

‘He was supposed to be mine!’ Brea thought angrily. ‘Getting him out of this mess became my sole purpose of going through with this idiotic plan, and here he is, showing the world that what I’m doing is for naught. And Augusta! How dare she! She knows how I feel I’m sure of it! She should be fighting for her right to be with Guy, NOT putting her perfectly manicured paws on MY wizard.’ Brea’s jaw was clenched and her grip on the crystal glass was increasing dangerously, as the offending couple slipped by Slughorn and walked together toward what looked to be a ministry official.

“Brea do you maybe would you like to dance?” Remus asked as he hesitantly cupped Brea’s elbow. He was completely oblivious to the witch’s riotous anger though now that he was silently awaiting her answer he could hear her increased heartbeat. Assuming it was because of him he took a breath of courage and not waiting for her answer, slipped his hand down her arm to find her hand. Using his free hand he quickly pulled her cup from her hand, frowning at how much of a grip she had had on it, set it down and pulled her to the other dancers.

Brea went stiffly. Throwing one last glare toward Regulus, which he ignored, Brea angrily turned her attention to Remus. With effort she smoothed the frown from her eyes and smothered Remus with a warm smile, setting her free hand on his shoulder. ‘I’m going to enjoy this bloody party if it’s the last thing I do. Maybe give him a piece of his own medicine.’ Brea thought with gleeful menace. Then in her jealousy, with no thought to how Remus would take her actions, only thinking about her own selfishness, Brea pulled Remus dangerously closer to her, lifting her other hand from his to link behind his neck.

A startled Remus held onto her waist to keep them steady as they began to twirl with the music. He resolved to find the courage to open himself to the thought of staring a relationship. ‘She obviously doesn’t find me repulsive. But then again she has no idea about my ‘furry little problem.” I’ll ask the others their opinion first.’

Brea was at once too ashamed to look around to see if her suggestive hold on Remus had had the desired effect. ‘What is wrong with me? Acting like a jealous fishwife.’ She kept her eyes on the collar of Remus dress shirt, never seeing the wizard with an angry fire in his eyes, or the shy gaze of the werewolf looking down on her.

Remus and Brea were just finishing their second dance when a highly aristocratic voice spoke over Brea’s shoulder. “Would the lady do me the honor of giving me this next dance?”

Remus had stopped short, holding Brea steady to keep her from tripping at his sudden stop. His eyes narrowed while Brea quickly turned to see Lucius Malfoy, thin cold smile in place with his hand held out for hers.

“I don-“Remus began.

Brea interrupted, “its fine. I hear the Malfoys are brilliant dance partners.” Brea said lightly. She was both incredibly intrigued on why the great luscious Malfoy wanted a moment with her. And doubly apprehensive at the same time. With her eyes locked on his she moved away from Remus, leaving him stunned and cautious as he moved from the floor.

The Malfoys hand was surprisingly warm as he held hers and led her into a light hearted waltz. Brea felt small and intimidated. ‘Hermione’s right. Malfoys are fabulous at dancing.’ She thought. Brea’s curiosity kept her quite as she waited for him to broach why he wanted a moment with someone as seemingly insignificant as her. She didn’t have to wait long.

“No matter what I say, you are not to stop dancing. It’s imperative to our lives. Understand?” he said quietly into the space just above her ear. Brea’s eyes were wide as she focused on the silver snake pinned to his dress robe chest pocket, she gave a small nod. “Excellent. Now then. I know who you are and why you are here. Ah ah don’t stop, keep dancing.” His words caused Brea’s breath to catch in her throat and she missed more than one step. Her blood ran cold and she lifted wide frightened eyes to his calculating ones. “You poor child. What a task they set you on. Cruel bothersome wenches.” Lucius continued as if his words hadn’t just turned her heart to ice. “You will not succeed. Not like you are now. Ah seems this song is ending. A place where not even the ghosts will enter seems a lively place for an evening birthday party mmm? Enjoy the… festivities miss Fox.” Lucius then stepped back from a chilled Brea as the last note died away, with a swish of his long dress robes he turned and left her standing on the dance floor.  
Brea watched him move toward Barty Crouch and his son, mind blank and lost. ‘Don’t be idiotic Fox! Chin up before someone becomes suspicious!’ Brea berated herself and stuck a seemingly serene smile on her lips but it didn’t reach her eyes. Brea turned and quickly made her way to Remus who was now standing with Lily.

He watched her approach in concern, noting her heartbeat was erratic, and her hand felt cold when he picked it up. “What did Malfoy say to you?” Remus asked roughly. The wolf in him recognized her as a possible mate and was already becoming uncontrollably protective.

Brea looked startled and blinked several times, struggling to find a satisfactory answer. “Just… that he… wanted to congratulate me on the recommendations for Auror training. Seems he has the ear of some ministry officials… offered to put in a good word.” Brea looked away as she lied. ‘When does it end…’ she thought wearily.

Remus frowned, holding back a growl.

“Well I wouldn’t put much stock in what that one says.” Lily said, she didn’t pick up on the tension surrounding the other two. “As Slytherin as they come, that Malfoy is.” Brea nodded before looking around. Regulus and Augusta were now gone and Brea noticed a steady stream of guests taking their leave.

“Are you two ready to depart?” Brea asked tiredly.

Lily shook her head, “you go on I want to catch up with Rayna and Severus.” Remus and Brea nodded before making their way to the hallway. As they walked Remus struggled to bring up the subject of becoming involved with Brea. While he had held her swaying form, her scent rousing the wolf, the jealousy of Malfoy pulling her away… Remus didn’t think he could wait for advice from his friends.

“Was a lovely time.” He tried first.

Brea looked up and nodded. “It was nice. Thank you for tagging along. You dance well.” She said politely.

Remus warmed at her small praise and cleared his throat nervously. “I was…” he hesitated as they passed a student, eyeing them in curiosity. Looking around Remus suddenly pulled Brea into a moonlit alcove.

“Remus what on Earth are you about?” Brea gasped out as he pushed her to sit down on the alcove window seat.

“Brea… I actually I was wondering. See I had a truly wonderful time, and you look beautiful- well you always do, that’s not what this is about. Actually what this is about-“

“Remus.” Brea broke in quietly. While Remus struggled to find what he wanted to say Brea picked up what he was attempting to do, Stacy had had a long discussion with her about how to tell if a boy likes you after that debacle with Guy. Realizing that Remus had indeed looked further into the night’s actions than she had intended filled her with guilt, and shame washed over her, churning her stomach in regret. Not only had a Death Eater somehow figured her out after only meeting her once, she now had to reject one of the most amazing people she knew.

She pulled him to sit beside her and turned to look at him. His sandy hair was hanging in his golden eyes, anxiousness tightened his lips. Brea took a deep breath and began again.

“Remus… don’t please. You don’t want messed up with me.” She said lamely.

Remus pulled his hand from hers as he realized he was being rejected. He stood abruptly, cursing himself for putting himself in this situation. Feeling anger rip through him, not at Brea but at himself for his foolishness. “I understand. I apologize for my behavior.” He said stiffly. He turned to walk away but Brea gripped his hand, stopping his progress.

“Remus hear me out. Please.” She pleaded, desperate to alleviate the guilt choking her. She knew how much he would suffer before eventually facing an early death, his wife by his side. Thinking of Tonks gave her an idea. “Remus you are amazing and beautiful in every way.” She began desperately looking up at him from her seated position. “Inside and out. I know you don’t see it but I do, and further down the line you will meet a witch who can see you too. She will love you till the edge of time, and fight with you as you battle your demons.” Brea swallowed as tears shined her eyes, his own still giving away no emotion. “Tonight I realize I may have used you selfishly and I am forever regretful to have done so. The fault is not of your own but mine. My actions will always weigh heavily on my heart.” The tears now made tracks down her cheeks, mascara marking them. “I can’t say when she will enter your life but just know you will need to be brave. Do not let my petty and poorly chosen actions tonight keep you from her. “Brea finished her guilt ridden speech with a sniffle.

Remus sighed and handed her a kerchief from his pocket. “This would have been easier if you had just said yes.”

Brea ducked her head, as she held the cloth to her nose. “But it wouldn’t have been fair. I can’t promise… anything at all. I have no promise of happiness, no promise of laughter, no promise of a long life or even love. I know… I know that now.” Brea’s couldn’t tell him why and she hoped to Merlin he left it alone.

Remus decided indeed to forget the entire matter and offered his hand. “Let’s get back to the tower then?” he said as a way of getting past the awkward situation.

However Brea didn’t exactly relish the idea of explaining her tear streaked face. “Actually you go on ahead. I want to clean up in the bathroom first.”

Remus hesitated at the idea of leaving her alone. Noticing his concerned pause Brea attempted to chuckle lightly and pulled her wand from the strap on her thigh. “I’m prepared. Go on.”

Remus shook his head with a muttered “goodnight” and stalked away quickly. Brea watched him go, feeling foolish and weak. She quickly made her way to the prefect’s bathroom. Quickly giving the password of “bubble blossoms,” she entered the dimly lit bathroom and walked for the line of sinks and mirrors. The amazing bathtub was empty and Brea considered using it before heading to her dorm. The thought certainly made her feel better. Haphazardly tossing her wand on the counter Brea turned the faucet on, splashing her stained face with cold water. ‘Stupid girl. What have you done?’ she berated herself, staring at her reflection. She never saw the red light from McNair’s wand. The unexpected stupefy knocked the unsuspecting witch unconscious immediately.

\--“Rennervate”, McNair awakened the wandless and bound witch at his feet. Brea gasped as her eyes flew open and she immediately attempted to sit up. The incarcerous spell McNair had wrapped around her caused her to fall back and roll ungracefully, causing McNair to laugh. His laughter brought Brea to a still and she quickly looked around the bathroom. Her wand was still by the sink but she was now bound by the edge of a very full, glimmering prefect bathtub.

McNair, Crouch Jr., and several other Slytherins surrounded her. To her shock which Brea tried to keep hidden, Regulus was among them, staring fixatedly at mermaid window.  
Brea winced when McNair used the toe of his leather shoe on her shoulder to push her onto her back.

“You know you deserve this Fox. Seems you didn’t learn your lesson the first time.” McNair sneered from above her. He looked to his housemates and said mockingly “Filth just can’t be taught nicely.” Several chuckled gleefully in response. “How about we give the bitch a bath. Maybe clean the stench of her up a bit hmm?”

Brea struggled against the sets of hands that grabbed her arms and legs. They ignored her screams of protest as the turned her face down, leaving her panicked face inches above the surface of the bathtub. She screamed when a hard hand fisted in the hair on the back of her head, a hot breath breathing on her ear. “This is what you deserve, that little curse of yours was not something someone like you should even think of doing to someone like me. Your betters. Remember as your fighting for air, that you earned this. Now don’t forget.”

Brea’s panic was consuming her, she knew what would happen next. She had never been afraid of water. Never once in her nearly sixteen years. But McNair’s obvious madness had her terrified in a way she had never experienced before. In a blink McNair forced her head underwater, she tried to stay calm but the ice cold water immediately filled her nose and mouth and the burning in her lungs surpassed rational thought and Brea struggled with everything she had. She felt the brink of blackness settling over her when she felt the pull on her hair lifting her to precious air. She gulped the air in relief, before to her horror he plunged her back down again, leaving her chest on fire.

Time passed and Brea’s mind wandered, her body relaxing. She didn’t feel the pain in her body, or the grip in her hair leave. Thoughts of home pushed the fog of pain away. For the first time in years she could clearly see the face of old Martha. Remembering Hermione’s clear voice as she sang to her. Harry teaching her to hold a hammer and Ron beating her in an apple eating contest. How she missed them.  
With her mind on her far away family Brea didn’t notice her binds being pulled away from her chaffed wrists and ankles, her head pulled limply from the water, turned onto her side to allow the water in her lungs to drain from her mouth. She was content wandering through the dusty memories of a life she wanted to go back to. ‘I’ve made a mess of this one. I want to go back.’ Brea thought forlornly.  
Slowly her eyes focused as her memories faded once more. She hollowly heard McNair loudly declaring his victory over her to his friends. Their laughter echoed as she watched their feet lead them from the bathroom. Coherent thought finally pushed its way to the surface and Brea brought her hands to cover her face, cold from the water and trembling.

Realization that she nearly died slammed into her gut, causing Brea to cruel up as tightly as she could, sobs wracking her body. She laid there for a long time, playing the entire day through her mind over and over, desperately trying to think of the way her night should have ended. So many mistakes. ‘I should have never let Remus leave, never had feelings for Regulus, never danced with Malfoy, never joined that stupid ridiculous club, never thought about fighting back, never come to Hogwarts. I should have never bloody been anything!’ Brea’s irrational emotions were taking their toll on her mentally and she blamed herself for the situation. ‘It’s my fault I’m here laying on the wet ground like a pathetic drowned rat. Get up, get up now and do something about it!’

Brea went to stand too fast but her limbs were still weak and dizziness knocked into her. Taking a slow breath she pushed herself up slowly this time, before standing she slipped her high heels off then made her way to her wand. She caught her appearance and shuddered. She had always supposed she was pretty enough, she had proportional facial features and long lashes that girls her age usually fussed about but now she looked ugly. As ugly as her actions toward Remus, Guy, and even Torrin, made her feel on the inside. Lips tinted blue and turned down in a deep seated anger, skin ashy and clammy, hollow cheeks from her tightened expression, limp wet hair matted to her neck, dark exhausted rings around her eyes. Her eyes usual light brown color, were nearly black with emotion. She knew she couldn’t allow Stacy to see her like this. She couldn’t bear to tell another lie for the night and this was her own battle. There was no one she could go to with this burden. So Brea gripped her wand tightly and quickly cast a drying spell, pulled her hair into a bun. Brea practiced a few smiles in the mirror, the effort making her feel better. After making sure Stacy’s dress wasn’t damaged Brea quickly picked up her shoes and with her wand gripped tightly she made her way quietly to her dorm, relieved to encounter no one else and to find Stacy already asleep.

A deep weariness set over Brea’s mind once she had changed into a nightgown, the remnants of what had begun as a perfectly wonderful day, so suddenly turned to ash and all by her own selfish actions.  
She laid in the middle of the bed, Gred humming from her shoulder in comfort. “Let’s end this shall we Gred? Maybe we’ll get to go home and pretend this life never happened.” Brea whispered to the little ball of pink fluff. Tonight she felt as if she revealed her true colors not only to Remus and Mcnair’s gang of Slytherins but to herself as well. Every emotion a heroine shouldn’t have, filled Brea with every breath. Anger, jealousy, selfishness, pride, arrogance and finally fear. Hero’s in books didn’t have fear or at least they didn’t show it. They had anger but they used it to defeat the evil enemy, not allow it to feed the other emotions until they callously used an innocent only to throw them away. All actions Brea had done in the past few hours.

If one good thing came from the night it was finally admitting to herself that love was not in the cards. Not with Regulus, not with Remus. Brea knew she would still do everything in her power to save them from their futures but she had allowed the distraction of someone showering her with attention for far too long.

With a murmur she moved him from her shoulder in order to pick up her old worn bag from the floor. Still near the top laid the book, giving insight into using Parseltoung, pushing her fear of what Lucius would do, and the riddle he had left her with to the back of her mind along with her depressing thoughts.


	17. The Seven Doves

The next morning Brea waved farewell to her friends and housemates as they crowded into carriages, cheering mightily their love of the holidays. Remus was polite but Brea could feel the closeness they had briefly shared was gone, much to her regret. Stacy tried to convince Brea to come with her at the last minute but Brea firmly declined. She liked having the castle practically to herself.

Guy Wickliff gave her shoulder a sad squeeze before climbing in with his fellow Hufflepuffs. He knew part of what she was going through and offered this small comfort.

When McNair, Regulus, and several others reached their carriage Brea started to look away in fear. Realizing what a pathetic coward they were turning her into she turned her gaze back defiantly. Mcnair stared back with a sneer. His smile turned ugly and Brea couldn’t keep up her false bravery. She looked away and burned with shame as she heard his laughter grating her pride. Fists clenched Brea turned back to the castle doors and entered the eerily quiet halls.

Left on her own, Brea sighed with relief, and the trek to the Gryffindor common room was quick and without interruption. Brea settled before the crackling fire in Sirius’s favorite tall back chair, no other students were there for the moment. Leaving Brea perfectly content. She finally had a moment to figure out Malfoys cryptic message. His caution about being overheard spoke of being on her side, yet however much Brea knew she could use an ally, she just didn’t know if she could trust him. Things she knew about Lucius Malfoy from Harry’s rundown all those years ago, of the war with Voldemort was very little. He was a pureblood supremacist death eater, she knew that. Arrogant, cruel, corrupt, she picked that up from the lesson too. But harry had suggested that when it came to his family, the limits he would go to in order to protect his family were endless, thus resulting in his defecting from his dark lords cause in the end.

He obviously wanted to meet her in secret in the most haunted house in Britain. Obviously the shrieking shack, on her birthday in the evening she had gathered. She just didn’t know if she would go. Her knowledge of him didn’t exactly speak of trustworthy.

Her birthday wasn’t for another two days, this gave her time to think about her decision. Besides she had some Parseltoung to practice. Her confrontation with McNair the night before had left her with a burning need to seek revenge. Her best shot at this was to strengthen the Gryffindor sword two decades before Harry would. There was also the need to prove to herself that she wasn’t as pathetic as McNair and his cronies which Regulus was now seemingly apart of, had made her feel. The feeling that she couldn’t handle this task was beginning to eat at her pride.

Brea curled up in Sirius’s chair with the ancient book and picked up where she had left off in the early morning hours. Much of the book was difficult to understand and largely unhelpful. Brea had figured she would be learning a new language like she had French and Latin. It wasn’t so much that she would actually be speaking as a natural parse mouth would but she would be able to imitate it. The author mentioned that understanding a snake was much more difficult than speaking the rare language, without years of constant practice. Brea closed the book with a frustrated snap and sighed.  
‘I don’t have years to practice. I need to do this now. Before Regulus takes the mark.’ Brea thought and stood. ‘First things first. A good dinner and bath. Then I get the best nights rest possible.’

Later as Brea tossed and turned in her bed she thought about how easy her first two tasks had been. She had ate till her sides hurt enjoying the company of a first year Hufflepuff witch named Lara, the two giggled and told jokes until the few students left and the professors were giving the duo glances and whispers. Afterwards with trepidation Brea soaked in the prefects bath, though recent events had made her cautious and she kept her wand in her hand at all times despite how awkward it made scrubbing ones hair. The first two tasks had left her immensely relaxed and ready for the night. Warmly tucked into the covers by eight-thirty, Gred laying by her ear, Brea found herself staring sightlessly at the red canopy.

She was hours away from doing quite possibly the most idiotic thing she had ever done. Alone. And highly under trained. She silently wished Hermione were there beside her like she had promised. But Brea was no longer the little girl she had been five years ago. She just had to believe she could do this and it would happen. “Right? Isn’t that how these things go? The hero just finds the faith in that they will succeed and then they do?” she asked Gred. He gave a muffled squeak in response to her childish reasoning. Brea sighed and closed her eyes. “Oh shush. I must get loads sleep so I can go kill a terrifying giant monster snake that I’ve only heard about once.” She muttered.

Skip to many hours later with Brea’s red rimmed eyes finally slipping closed as the sky began to brighten with the light of the eastern sun, only to wake with a rush a few short hours afterwards. Brea’s eyes snapped open and she half rolled and half scrambled from her tangle of blankets and rushed to get dressed.

Her self-imposed schedule for the day had been to wake after a decent rest, enjoy a leisurely breakfast, take a few practice swings in the Room of Requirement, make her way to the chamber of secrets in the girl’s bathroom, find and defeat the basilisks and be cleaned up by dinner. As it were now breakfast would be over in ten minutes, changing her plans for a fast breakfast in the kitchens in order to get herself back on track. Brea tossed on slacks, and a black sweater, with her hair in a ponytail, Brea hopped out of the dorm slipping her shoes on, slamming the door behind her. A moment later Brea rushed back in to snatch her wand from her night stand and her fox bag from the floor she rushed back out.

By the time Brea made it to the Room of Requirement she had decided to skip the warm up, all her rushing had her adrenalin pumping through her veins and that was enough for her. Once she picked up the sword and quickly stashed it within her bag she began the long run down staircase after staircase to the girl’s second floor bathroom. Brea paused just inside the door, gulping down air to steady herself and cautiously looked around. There next to the sinks floated the ghostly form of Moaning Myrtle, her hands covered her face and Brea could hear the occasional sniffle. Brea had been in the bathroom once before, and her experience with Myrtle had been interesting, and she felt badly for the ghostly girl, but Brea had a mission and no desire to listen to Myrtles everlasting woes.

Moving cautiously and quietly she moved toward the sinks and looked for the faucet Harry had briefly described. Brea had searched her memories over and over for any additional useful details for this foolhardy mission but all Brea could remember was girls second floor bathroom, snake sink, Parseltoung, giant killer snake with venom that could destroy Voldemort’s horcruxes.

Brea inhaled a silent gasp when she saw the sink with the snake faucet. She touched them gingerly and smiled at her small success. This was the first step.

“He never looked my way you know.” Myrtles girlish voice resonated through the wide open bathroom causing Brea to cringe. She really didn’t want to get into this right now and sought a way to quickly end the upcoming hysterics.

“That’s not your fault Myrtle.” Brea said as gently as she could without looking at the ghost of Myrtle and attempted to concentrate on the hisses she would need to make.

“How silly it was of me to believe someone as great and handsome as Tom Riddle would want anything to do with stupid and plain little me!” Myrtles rant which had started in a pathetic voice rose to a hysterical screech and she flew down to Brea’s face.

Brea’s eyes widened at Myrtles words and she quickly forgot about opening the chamber of secrets.

“You knew Tom Riddle? Went to school with him?” Brea asked in excitement. Her questions only cause Myrtle to rage at her.

“How dare you speak of him? He is nothing but greatness and he was meant to be mine!” with an angry wail Myrtle flew into a stall and the toilets began to flood.

Brea stood in stunned silence until the water soaked her shoes and brought her back to action. ‘I’ll just have to deal with this later. When she’s calmer.’ She thought and quickly turned back to the sink. ‘Alright the key word is “open” so let’s see if any of this sounds like open in Parseltoung.’ Brea began a series of hiss sounds, all of which sounded the same to her and none of which resulted in the sink revealing a passageway. When her mouth and throat grew dry from the effort Brea felt frustration setting in until at last the sink moved. Brea stood back in excitement with an enormous smile and patted herself on the back. “About time! Nearly ready to give up!”

Brea slowly made her way down through the dark musty tunnel, slipping on the slick stones with her soaked shoes, listening intently for any sign of movement. She gulped deeply at the great pile of snake skin she had to walk around. The tunnel opened up to a massive room with an incredibly impressive statue. ‘This is it fox. Get ready.’ She thought and pulled the sword from her bag. Holding it with two hands Brea took a deep breath for courage and called out “Alright Basilisks. I’m here to stop you… you know… two decades ahead of schedule… so come on then! I’ve had an awful start to the day and I’m missing my lunch… so…” Brea dropped her arms so the tip of the sword rested on the stone floor and scolded herself. “What kind of challenge was that? You certainly came off as threatening and imposing Fox. She must be shaking in her snake skin right-“Brea stopped talking when the statue before her began to move, the man’s mouth whom Brea could assume to be Salazar Slytherin, opened and Brea stood still, eyes wide.  
Brea’s first sight of the great monster were her fangs as they appeared in the newly opened statues mouth. In this moment, a fact Brea had forgotten, a bit of information that was imperative to her survival was the fact that she could not look into the snakes eyes. Brea slammed her eyes closed just before the yellow eyes appeared from the shadows and she began to panic. Clearly she hadn’t thought this through.  
She took a step back, holding the sword in front of her. Listening as the snakes movements echoed across the chamber, unable to pinpoint where the beast was, Brea turned to make a run for the exit. Her running hindered by her wet shoes and heavy sword she only made it a few paces before a great hiss sounded behind her and in the next moment Brea felt herself tripping on something thick and solid.  
She landed on the ground heavily and felt pain ripping through her ankle as it twisted, and the palm of her hand as it landed on the blade of the sword. Choking back a cry Brea scrambled and blindly attempted to retrace her path as quickly as she could. Slipping into the wall often as her limp became more pronounced and Brea’s panic increased, not noticing that she could no longer hear the basilisks.  
‘I’m not going to make it out of here.’ Was all she could think, that and the instinctive need to keep moving forward. She cautioned a look in front of her to see where she was and gasped in relief that she could see then entrance. Brea ran, ignoring her ankle, just desperate to escape from that pit she had so blindly walked into, full of arrogance and confidence.

Brea splashed into the still flooded bathroom, falling to the floor before scrambling back up and hissing at the entrance. With a small shred of luck she must have said the right hiss, as the chamber passage began to close again and Brea sank to her knees gasping for breath. With shaking hands she gripped her hair tightly at the scalp, not caring about the blood smearing her damp white hair, nor about the sting of her cut hand. Letting her breathing shudder Brea played back how close she had just come to losing her life.

A moment later of self-lamenting Brea looked up and glanced around frantically. “No no no no. please no let it be here.” She moaned to herself and splashed around the bathroom floor. Not finding the Gryffindor sword anywhere she sat in defeat. “This is it. I’ve lost. I’ve failed the prophecy, I’m going to watch my friends die terrible deaths, watch their children fight and die or fight and live haunted lives.” Brea said momentously and stood up. She made her way to leave the bathroom and Myrtle appeared behind her again.

“It’s what you get for trying to take my Tom.” Myrtle said in a childish sing song voice but Brea didn’t have the energy to argue with the ghost. Sighing wearily a cold and wet Brea walked with heavy limping steps up to her tower. Unaware of her appearance, and unable to care if anyone saw her, all she could think of was where she went wrong.

Back in her dorm Brea collapsed onto her bed with a sigh and closed her eyes. “I’m an idiot Gred. Whoever thought I was the girl for this job was honestly mistaken.” Brea rolled onto her side and looked out the window. “I must have been down there hours. Appears as if the sun is nearly set.” Gred squeaked softly from her pillow. Reaching over she gave his soft pink fur a pet and closed her eyes. “I don’t think I can bear to eat anything. Not after the mess I’ve made of today.” And unlike the night before Brea drifted off quickly.

\--I took a deep inhale of the sweet cold air around me, my eyes closed in serenity and peace, a breeze caressing my face. With a sigh I open my eyes and smile in delight. All around me are white flowers, and upon closer inspection I recognize them as lovely white snapdragons. I reach out to touch one when a yipping bark gives me pause and I glance up to look for the source. At first all I can see are the fields of snapdragons, bare grey trees in the short distance and the snow covered hills just beyond them.

Figuring I imagined the curious sound I turn my attention back to the flowers. They are perfectly beautiful and the scent emanating from them is intoxicating. I feel stronger and lighter just from knowing they are there. Unable to resist, I again reach down and softly touch the tallest one near me. I snap my hand away as at my touch, the once beautiful and healthy flower shrivels.-

\--Brea opened her eyes wide, staring at the canopy. After a moment of getting her thoughts under control she focused on trying to remember the details of her dream, she didn’t take divination but Stacy did so maybe she would understand the meaning. With a sigh she sat up thinking ‘I need to begin writing these down.’ After a stretch Brea realized with a wince that her body ached and she was still in the dirty and now stiffly dry clothes from her misshapen adventure they day before.

Brea groaned and made her way to the tower bathroom to get ready for the day. The hour wasn’t terribly early but she figured if she wouldn’t be saving the world then she would at least get good grades from studying and find a decent job until everything went south.

Brea gasped in shock at her appearance when she finally limped to the mirror. Dried blood caked one part of her hair, the pony tail tangled and falling limply to the side of her head, she had a scrape on her chin that she didn’t even remember getting, and a bruise swelling at her hairline temple. With a shake of her head Brea undressed and climbed into the shower to scrub herself clean and vowed to hide out for the rest of the break.

It was only after a long shower, while Brea watched herself in the mirror as she brushed out her wet hair to braid it that she remembered her birthday was tomorrow. And that Lucius Malfoy would be awaiting her in all his grandness. She may have given up on killing the basilisks but she couldn’t resist finding out what he knew. ‘So much for hiding out, and enjoying a quiet birthday,’

\--Brea spent her birthday attempting to concentrate on her astronomy textbook, a few birthday wishes from the morning post lay in an unread pile, but she ended up pacing restlessly in front of the common room fire. A million thoughts were running rampant through her nervous mind, at the forefront of which was whether or not she was again hours away from making a reckless mistake in going to this meeting with a notorious Death Eater. A few remaining housemates attempted to include her in their exploding snap games but Brea declined after being unable to concentrate on the game. Thankfully none of them had inquired about her injured face or bandaged hand.

When the sun began to set Brea made up her mind solidly and left the common room. Once she reached the willow she stood just out of its reach, considering how to get the tunnel she knew was there. She figured the most simplest approach was a stunning spell followed by her quickly running through the frozen whip like vines and down into the hidden entrance at the trunk. A sigh of relief she stood and dusted her slacks off and for the second time in three days, made her way through a dark tunnel with her heart in her throat.

Brea entered the shrieking shack for the first time, quite shocked by the appearance. The entire house seemed to be in shambles, furniture destroyed to splinters, claw marks that spoke of a deep animalistic rage gouged the walls and floor, and everywhere she looked.

‘Oh Remus…’ Brea thought sadly of her tortured friend.

A creaking board had Brea whirling around with her wand drawn. Behind her stood Lucius standing tall and proud, his chin length hair pulled back into a low ponytail, robes immaculate, and a perfect smirk.

“I see you couldn’t resist your curiosity Miss Fox.”

Brea was silently still holding her wand at the ready, watchful for any indication the Death Eat3r would attack. Lucius gave an exaggerated sigh and motioned to her with his gloved hand.

“You can lower your wand.” He looked down his nose toward her when she failed to comply with his order. “Now Miss Fox. If I had wanted you dead you would be. You are about as aware as that pathetic groundskeeper Dumbledore insists on keeping around.”

Brea felt indignation blush her cheeks but she lowered her wand but she did not put it away.

“What do you know?” Brea demanded with a quaver in her voice.

Lucius smiled thinly and shook a finger. He began to walk about the room drawing out his response. “Not…just yet young Fox. The question is what do you know.”

Brea clamped her lips closed and scowled at the handsome young man, determined to get the upper hand. Lucius simply gave a condescending smile and pointed his cane toward her chest.

“First you have something that belongs to my family.”

Brea slipped her hand up to her crystal. “That’s right. That one of a kind necklace has been in my family for generations. My grandmother’s precious and closest friend made off with it and was never heard of again.” Luscious said with a bored tone. He left Brea reeling.

‘Martha had lied?’ She thought with wide eyes.

“Now call me sentimental about many things but how about I… allow you to keep it. To show my sincerity.”

Brea sighed and made one last attempt at superiority with the once Slytherin. “If I don’t come out of this shack alive…”

“You’ll what? Haunt me? Don’t be a ridiculous child. You are the least of my worries in this wretched world.’ Lucius stalked toward Brea slowly. “Now girl I am growing weary of your useless tirade. Talk.”

Brea felt fear welling up when he moved close to her and stepped back. “What do you want to know?”

“How close are you to destroying the Dark Lord?”

Amusement mixed with her fear and she let out a derisive snort. “Not any closer than I was five years ago.”

“But you have a plan?”

“I had a plan. And if you can’t tell by my injuries, it failed, I failed, so all I can advise is to get your fiancé and get the hell out of this forsaken place before it falls apart because it takes you and those you love with it.” Brea ended with a hysterical shriek in her voice.

Lucius chuckled dryly and shook his head. “Of course you failed. You don’t have it in you yet.”

Brea ran a hand through her hair in an attempt to calm herself. “What do you mean yet?”

“Why Miss Fox you don’t want it enough.” He said cryptically.

“Care to elaborate?”

“You haven’t lost enough to do what needs to be done.”

Brea narrowed her eyes. “Why do you want me to destroy that who you serve?”

Lucius narrowed icy eyes. “Malfoys are not servants. Something my father seemed to forget many years ago when he promised him our family.”

Brea felt a bit smug at finally getting an honest answer for once. “How do you know who I am? I haven’t spoken a word of this to anyone. Not ever.”

Lucius nodded thoughtfully. “That’s excellent. Be sure you keep it that way. But simply not saying it aloud is not good enough.” He said tapping his cane on the floor. “If you are to succeed you will have to be noticed. And if you are noticed then your mind is not safe.”

Brea shook her head “I already failed. I couldn’t kill the basilisk.”

“Hmm I won’t ask for the details on why you would be out to destroy a beastly creature such as that but how did you fail?”

Brea sighed and looked down, shame flaming her cheeks. “I forgot an important bit of information, thus being caught unawares, then I lost my weapon.”

“You lost your wand?”

“No… I was using a sword.”

Lucius seemed to attempt at holding back a full-fledged laugh but a small genuine smile, however thin and mocking it was, made its way to his face. “Dear dear Miss Fox. How foolish you are. Are you not a witch?”

Brea scoffed “of course I am. But it doesn’t matter. I needed the sword and now it’s lost.”

Lucius simply patted her shoulder “as I said before. You have to want it, to need it. Now then you will need a lesson in occlumency. Keep your Sundays free and meet me at the Hogshead.” Lucius turned to leave.  
“Wait! You never said how you knew about me. Where I’m from.”

Lucius turned back to Brea with a smirk. “Tell me. What do you know of the Seven Sisters Miss Fox?”

Brea shrugged a bit confused “just a song about them granting their wisdom and powers to who they deem worthy.” At his silence Brea widened her eyes “are you saying they are real?”

“The seven sisters, watching over us. A mark of pride for the Malfoy name is our ancestry. And it just so happens we are descendants of the eldest sister Maia. Every so often a son of hers is born who can hear…. Whispers. Usually about nonsense on which god or goddess was falling in love with a human but sometimes…”

Brea was listening in rapt fascination, she had never heard anything like this before.

“Now then little more than five years ago the lovely doves were very high strung. Whispers reached me about how one of their daughters needed to be moved. I didn’t understand… at first. But then last year I saw you. For one the crystal. Family legend claimed it was Maia’s and it would lead a son of Maia to a daughter of Merope. He would show the daughter her path to slaying a son of Merope. The air around you smolders. As if you are distorting time. Difficult for even the greatest at divining such things but I am… aided by my ancestor.”

Brea thought back in stunned silence to her prophecy and slowly reached into the bag at her side. She found the cold crystal ball and pulled it out. Energetic peace swirled around her and she watched as Lucius closed his eyes and new he could hear the elegant words filling him.

_“Brought forth on Winter’s Breath, She will cross the impossible distance. Shown the way by the brightest of minds She will give back which was cruelly lost. Fighting for the world only when love is Her goal, once, twice, forever, time will weave its mistake until She returns.”_

“Brightest of minds. I always assumed it was Hermione and I suppose she did. But it was speaking of more than one.” Brea paused, a nervous feeling welling inside of her. “Does this mean I’ll be able to find my parents? And what do you mean a “Son of Merope?” Do I have a brother? I thought I was supposed to destroy Vold-”

Lucius sneered “we do not have the luxury of finding you a set of parents to coddle you. And you will not concern yourself with the son. You are not ready to know. Perfectly impossible.” He pulled his shoulders back and straightened out his robes. “Now then I have a little… get together with Narcissa’s terribly mad family. Fortunately the madness skipped her. Till Sunday.” And he turned to leave in however which way he entered the shack before pausing in the doorway and turned back to face Brea. With a mocking bow and a smirk he parted with his last words of “And Happy Birthday little sister.”

Brea was left alone in the desolate shack, her mind an absolute torrent of thoughts processing this new influx of information. ‘How does one deal with the possibility of being the daughter of the dove sisters? And that they supposedly ripped her from her lovely life and left her here. Alone. Well I suppose I’m not entirely alone. There’s good and wonderful Malfoy to share Christmas cards with.’

One thing Brea was certain she could take from this somewhat enlightening meeting with Lucius Malfoy was that he didn’t seem to accept her failure. “Well I’d like to see him come up with a bloody better plan.”


	18. Unexpected Family Ties

There comes a time of year for all fifth years when reality sets in that their O.W.L.S. are almost upon them, leaving them in a frantic need to study and the library becomes chaos. The sixth years watch in amusement as the younger school mates quickly walk from book shelf to book shelf searching for that one book that will unleash upon them the understanding they couldn’t find in any of the other books, watch as they barter sweets and promises for notes they had skipped. The Seventh years only rolled their eyes and returned to their own studies for their N.E.W.T.S. albeit much calmer.

Brea typically ahead in her studies and a through note taker was without a doubt in panic mode. The past few months Brea had given up her Sundays studying in the common room to meet up with long lost mythically related Lucius Malfoy, in a secretly rented room at the Hogshead where she went through lessons in occlumency and legilimency. It was painful and painfully exhausting, yet every lesson she felt she was improving. Not that Lucius would ever say so. She wasn’t sure if he had seen any of her past whenever he invaded her mind, she didn’t want him to see her memories of the farm, or the sadness his son would bring to her muggleborn Hermione. That was for her and she fought to keep him out with everything she had.

Her extracurricular lessons left her dragging through her Mondays and Tuesdays. By Wednesday if she went to bed strait after dinner, then she would be up to more than just going through the motions. Thus her need of recovery left little room for studying and she even shirked her prefect duties a time or two in order to spend a few moments of sleep in a hidden alcove.

Brea couldn’t even remember the last moment she had had just doing something she wanted, like read a book, or the piano in the room of requirement. Anything that wasn’t filled with catching up on homework and essays, cheering at Quidditch matches, avoiding Regulus – not that that was difficult, the prat made it very easy when he was always around McNair- , and keeping Lucius out of her mind. She was still at a loss on how to get the sword back and Lucius had been incredibly unhelpful on that front. Always with the vagueness that one.

Brea sighed from the doorway to the library as she watched the commotion inside the incredible room. Madam Pince was attempting her best to remain calm and get order back but much to no avail. Students of every year were clustered over the tables, more fifth years than others. The bookshelves while still cluttered had the look of being picked clean of all the most useful. The sound of loud murmuring and paper rustling, quills scratching on parchment.

Regulus was there with his head bent down over a book, black hair falling in his eyes like always, Augusta ever present beside him with her own book but she wasn’t looking at it. She was watching Guy Wickliff and he was watching her over the top of his book.

The sight saddened her and she had to look away. Sirius and James were in the back, laughing a bit too loudly as Lilly walked away from their table, Remus shaking his head at them before handing parchment over to Peter. She was mildly surprised to see James and Sirius in there but she figured they were keeping peter and Remus company. As Brea walked through the isle looking for a free table she noticed Stacy was nowhere to be found and sighed dejectedly. She hadn’t particularly wanted to sit alone but she settled in for it anyways.

Brea had read half a page in her charms book when the small figure of little Hufflepuff first year Lara sat across from her.

“Do you mind if I sit here? These bigger Slytherins took over my table.” She said in a sweet voice.

Brea brightened immediately. “Lara! I’ve missed my Christmas break companion. Of course you may sit with me. This is the best table anyhow.” She said with a wink.

Lara giggled and began to read a care of magical creature’s text. Brea watched her for a moment with a smile. Lara was a sweet little girl with short brown hair and large equally brown eyes. An impish smile, and a bit of a jokester, the two had spent many of their Christmas holiday dinners seated together. Brea found her delightfully imaginative and adventurous.

After a while of studying the two had set aside their books and took to drawing pictures for the other. Brea was putting the final details on her portrait of Gred, Lara was attempting to draw the Giant Squid when Sirius called out to her.

“Oi Fox! Stacy said to meet her in- what are you doing?” he asked once he reached her table. In the distance Brea saw the other three marauders leave the library. Brea rolled her eyes and gestured to Lara who was still working on her art piece.

“I’m drawing a picture for my good friend Lara. Where is Stacy?”

Sirius stared at Brea as if she had grown a second head for a long moment. Brea was about ready to kick him when he rolled his eyes and laughed loudly.

“Riiight Fox. Just go meet the girl in the common room.”

Brea sighed and shook her head, gathering her supplies before handing her drawing to Lara. “Here you go Lara. I’ll see you around.”

“Bye Brea! And thanks! He’s lovely.” Lara waved goodbye with a happy smile.

Sirius was uncommonly silent on the walk to the common room.

\--Brea sat before Lucius, exercising her mind as she deflected him mentally. Making some real progress when she actually was able to push him out forcefully rather than him growing bored and leaving. Brea panted from the exertion and she felt a headache but she was beaming with pride and smiled smugly back at the frowning Malfoy. Before she would open her mouth to pride fully gloat, Lucius flung himself back into her mind right up to her first wall. In her distraction he pushed through the memories, not really caring for what they were, simply showing her that he could take them if he wanted.

When she finally managed to get a foothold she pushed him back out, holding her head in pain. “That wasn’t fair Malfoy! I won-“

“Do you believe the Dark Lord will be… fair Miss Fox?” Lucius asked coldly. “In your arrogance you dropped your guard and that is something you must never do. Do you honestly believe he would give up after one little push?”

Brea blushed in shame at her mistake. She had allowed her silly pride to bring her down again. The need to show Lucius up was indeed great and Brea’s victories were so few these days, every little one was a cause for a celebration to her. But she was quickly realizing how foolish she was acting. With a depressed sigh Brea slumped back in her chair and studied her nails.

“You’re right Lucius. I apologize.”

Lucius sneered “of course I’m right. How I got saddled with this task I’ll never know but you better make it worth my wile.”

Brea nodded silently, feeling the world settling on her shoulders even more firmly than ever.

Something had been bothering Brea since the Christmas holidays and she took advantage of their silence.

“I did some research… on the seven sisters. Nowhere does it say Merope had a daughter.”

Lucius gave an uncharacteristic roll of his pale blue eyes. “What you are reading is mythology written by peasants thousands of years ago. Do you really believe the truth could be passed along for so long without time and lies distorting it?”

Brea shrugged and thought of the possibility. “It’s possible that the seven sisters had many children over the centuries. Merope was lost for many years. Possibly while she was missing she was here. Leaving you behind on this wretched rock. But for the entire truth you will need to ask her.”

“But… I cannot hear them. Their whispers that is, as you do.”

Luscious smirked “it seems the sisters do not bestow their gifts to just anyone. Practice constantly Miss Fox.” He said before apparating from the drab room.

Brea felt frustrated with herself. She had hopped for an answer for once but she was now left with the burning question on why the sisters didn’t speak with her but somehow Lucius the-enormous-prat Malfoy was gifted with their knowledge and privy to their conversation. Brea pulled herself from her chair and trudged down the creaking stairs to the dim pub below.

“A butterbeer please,” she said to the tall bearded man behind the bar and sat heavily in a dark corner, nursing her headache and letting frustration eat at her. Terribly exhausted now with the hour drawing late and she still had prefect duties that night with Andrews. With her palm holding her head up Brea looked around the room. Not many patrons were occupying the space and most were alone, nursing their own woes and disappointments by the looks on their faces. Brea was about to turn her attention back to her drink when an odd couple caught her attention.

There nearly out of view was Severus Snape seated with a woman several years their senior. She had amazing curly chocolate hair and an elegant bone structure to her face. Her expression was twisted into a pleading one as she held onto Severus hand attempting to keep him from leaving. Severus shook his head and pulled his hand free as he stood. Brea watched as he turned toward the front doors, leaving the young woman with tears in her eyes.

Brea was aching with curiosity and mustering her invasive Gryffindor courage, she picked up her butterbeer, ordered another and approached the woman who was dabbing at her eyes with a kerchief.  
“Looks as if you could use this.” Brea said quietly as she sat the newly acquired mug down before the woman. Brea noticed her clothes were neat and clean if a bit more on the muggle side than commonly seen around Hogsmead, and something about her was incredibly familiar.

The woman looked up and gave a wobbly smile, “thank you very much. Please you’re welcome to sit.” She gestured to the seat previously belonging to Severus. Brea smiled and sat with her own mug.

“I don’t know Severus well but he usually comes off more cold than he actually is.”

The woman gave a brief laugh and nodded. “I know that well.”

Brea shifted, she was dying to know what the story was behind her and Severus meeting in which left them both distressed and one in tears.

“Allow myself to introduce… myself. I would be Brea Fox, Gryffindor fifth year and occasional friend of Severus Snape.” Brea held her hand out.

The woman who had been silently moving her mug in a circle lifted her hand and held Brea’s own in a firm shake. “Helen… Prince- Nott. I’m Severus’s half-sister.”

Brea’s eyes lit gold in excitement. “I never knew Severus had a sister! Oh this is fantastic. Is he always working on his potions and inventing spells while at home? When did you leave Hogwarts? Were you a Slytherin too? Gosh you two look nothing alike. Other than the eyes.”

Helen smiled sadly and stared into her mug. “I… I am much to my mother’s dismay a squib. She had married incredibly young at the behest of her parents, while secretly in love with a muggle, I came along as a result. My father died before my birth while out of the country, leaving my mother, in her mind, free to pursue her feelings for the muggle man she had loved from afar. When she did this she left me with my father’s family the Nott’s, as Tobias did not want to “raise another man’s whelp” as he had said. Severus came a few years after. I didn’t get to see him often but I felt he always held it against me that he was forced to live in that poor and unhappy home.”

Brea listened as the woman who just moments ago had been a total stranger pour her family history out to her. “How all very sad. And your fathers family? Do they take care of you? Why would Severus place the blame on you?”

“I can’t believe I’m spilling all this… it just feels incredible to finally talk about this with someone I suppose. Let’s see, yes the Nott’s took very good care of me. I had the best muggle schools and they never treated me unworthy because of my lack of magic. I fear Severus blames me because it’s easier. His father… his father hates magic. And he sees it as unfair that I would escape his father’s wrath while he is forced to listen to his father spew vile words about something Severus can’t help. I wish I could have been there for him. Protected him from the obvious abuse. But when a mother chooses to leave behind her child it makes it difficult.”

Brea nodded in understanding, she had been feeling decidedly “left behind” as both Helen and Lucius put it. “May I ask why you met with him today? Forgive my unnatural sense of curiosity please.”  
Helen smiled as tears entered her dark eyes again. “While I was off learning I met a lovely muggle man, and we are to be married this summer. I asked Severus if he would…” she took a deep breath to steady her emotions. “I asked if he would walk me down the aisle and give me away in place of my father.”

Brea smiled sadly and set a hand on Helens hand in comfort. “And he said no.”

Helen sniffed and nodded with a jerk. “Quiet vehemently.”

Brea squeezed the distraught woman’s hand. “Severus isn’t easy. He’s incredibly complex and messed up.”

“That he is. You… you said you were sometimes friends with my brother?”

Brea nodded. “Mainly in passing when the other Slytherins are not around.”

“I see. Just…will you keep an eye on him? Hogwarts seems like an incredibly lonely place when you have a difficult life.”

Brea nodded. Looking down into her nearly empty mug. “Hogwarts can be the greatest place on earth but you are not wrong. There is a loneliness.”

\--Brea sat on the stone steps of the courtyard, watching the sun set and the snow melt, thinking back to the day’s earlier events. She wondered if anyone knew that Severus had had a sister. Harry had given no indication that he knew any such thing about his old potions professor. When they spoke of him that fateful night so many years away now, they had only ever mentioned his love for Lily Evans bringing him to the side of light, and his cold intimidating nature.

As for her lesson with Lucius, Brea felt pride seeping back in despite her will to not wallow in it. She would best that arrogant git before she was done.


	19. Forgiveness

Anthony detested the Slytherin commons. The dark walls encouraged dark thoughts, the cold likened to many of the student’s childhoods and created more just like their parents. Leading to what he disliked even more than the depressing room where the occupants he was forced to share it with. When the first years arrive each year they are filled with innocence their parents had yet to beat out of them. If they even received that much attention. It was never halfway Anthony thought. Either pureblood parents gave too much attention or not enough. The result was a generation of unstable youth being taught incredible power at one source, and how to abuse it at another. Anthony listened as a first year boy bragged about setting a Hufflepuffs homework afire.

“That’s what this place does to children. Takes their kindness and turns it into cruelty.” Anthony said with a curled lip. He looked to Regulus for confirmation of his agreement. It was a rare moment these days when Regulus wasn’t seated with the up and coming sterling Death Eater wannabes. When Regulus gave a non-committal shrug, instead staring at a page on his book, pretending to read, Anthony felt anger flash through him. He understood his friends’ need to go along with the façade of supporting blood purity but the last year he had turned into a shell of his former self.

He no longer put his all into Quidditch as he once did, in fact they had lost to both Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. But he no longer cared. Anthony had watched as his friend- his only friend if he was honest with himself, tied himself to Augusta’s side, as a sign of accepting his fate, Regulus had briefly explained. Anthony was no fool. He knew there was so much more behind it all and he knew the fault lay with that twice damned Brea Fox. He couldn’t bring himself to ever like the bird but she had obviously been good for his friend. Anthony couldn’t explain why he detested the Fox, the best he could come up with was that she didn’t fit. She didn’t belong with Regulus but she made him happy nonetheless.

“Why did you fancy yourself in love with the Fox chit?” Anthony asked abruptly, effectively getting Regulus undivided attention for once.

Regulus stared at Anthony in silence. He had never asked himself that before. Was it that she was still a mystery? Or how she didn’t put him in the same box as all the other Slytherins? “I suppose… it’s because loving her gave me a reason to get out. Out of what being a Black meant for my future.” Regulus answered honestly to himself and to Anthony.

“What went wrong?” Anthony asked the question he had been trying for months to get out.

Regulus hesitated. He didn’t know how to answer. But he tried for the first time since Brea and himself turned away from each other to find the answer. “She gave me the will to want more for myself. But somehow she got it in her head that she’s the one who’s going to give it to me.” Regulus groaned. “That’s not how it sounds. I can handle putting myself out in the middle of a ravaging storm, or willing to hide in the shadows to change my fate. But what I’m not willing to do is step to the side while she does it for me. This isn’t her fight, its mine and she wants to take it away from me.”

Anthony stared at his friend in astonishment before rolling his eyes. “That’s pathetically chauvinistic of you. You’re telling me all this past year has been because there’s a witch who is willing to put her life in danger for your sake? And you are afraid of your manhood being taken from you?” Anthony chuckled sarcastically.

Regulus scowled. “It’s more than that. I’ve seen her wield a wand. I know she can handle herself a bit. But she lets her head get carried off and becomes careless in her pride. But that’s not what upset me. I don’t… I can’t explain it. There’s this deep part of me that says I’m meant to do this. not her. It doesn’t fit.” He sighed and pushed a hand through his hair. “It’s easier if I push her back so I can do this myself. If something happened to her…”

Anthony sneered “what you mean McNair didn’t do enough?”

Regulus shook his head in guilt and stood to leave. “I’m going to go see if Augusta finished checking over my essay.” And left Anthony frowning fiercely. Before forming a plan in his mind. His decision made he left the dungeons behind to search for a certain duchess. He was cringing at the thought but he admitted he would need her help.

\--Stacy adored the greenhouses in the late spring. Delightful scents filled the air and the excuse to get her hands dirty irresistible. With Brea so distracted lately and Lilly doing prefect overtime on the students itching for the summer holidays, Stacy found herself alone quite often. She detested studying and the flowers reminded her of Rose and in turn Torrin. She missed them.

Stacy sighed as she set a pot of dragon wart on a shelf, before wiping her damp brow. She didn’t have to be here as it was a Saturday but Remus had the boyos in the library, Brea was more than likely in there as well, cramming for their O.W.L.S. which were in less than a week. Out of the window Stacy caught a quick glimpse of the castle. She had always dreamed of coming to Hogwarts, had heard stories of it, and she truly adored her time here. But something was off. The sadness and loneliness emanating from the castle shook her to the core sometimes.

Reaching for another pot in order to transfer another dragon wart she heard footsteps coming down the path. ‘Oh bloody hell, go away.’ She thought irritably. When the door opened she yelled those exact words, not thinking for a second it could be a professor coming inside the heated building.

“Ah the Duchess in her natural element. Servants work.” A lazy drawl came from behind her.

Stacy secretly thrilled at Anthony’s unexpected presence, but she willed herself to keep her composure. Not pausing Stacy shot back “and the servant would like the slimy snake out of her garden. Immediately. Lest he sit in dragons snare while mistaking it for a throne for his pompous ass.”

Anthony scowled at her insult and got to the point of his seeking her unwanted presence. He attempted to step in front of her but she immediately turned a different direction under the guise of her… hobby.

“I need to talk to you.”

“Yea? Well I don’t need to talk to you.”

“It’s about Regulus and Fox.” he tried again, nearly growling when she turned away yet again.

“I don’t care. Just keep your bloody death eater friend away from her and all will be grand.’

Anthony grew angry. “Would you look at me? I have searched the entire bloody castle grounds for you!”

Stacy twirled to face him, blue eyes icy. “And I want you to leave!”

“I would like nothing more than to leave this disgusting pit.”

Stacy gestured to the door. “Then go. If you are wanting me to beg then please. You are insufferable.”

Anthony nearly gave up and left but he stood his ground. “I… I need your help.”

Stacy gave a sarcastic laugh. “Hah what could the great pureblood possibly need with the help of a dirty blooded witch like me?”

Anthony rolled his eyes at her theatrics. “Trying to fix my foolish heartbroken friend. And as he confessed to me mere hours ago, the ridiculous Fox makes him happy. Now I need you to fix it so he will stop becoming that which he despises.”

Stacy had not been expecting that and she hesitated to agree. She did agree that her own friend had been acting a bit… mad. “Why would I want to fix Brea’s relationship with Black? I know who he’s been hanging around with. And I know for a fact he’s hurt Brea deeply by parading around with Corrigan.”

Anthony smirked “all we need to do is get them together and let the two idiots figure it out for themselves.”

Stacy thought of the idea. She would like to see Brea smile again. She always looked so tired lately and when she wasn’t asleep she had a frown always present. Intense concentration in her eyes.

“If I’m to agree to this you have to admit something to me first.” Stacy demanded.

“Whatever duchess. What?”

Stacy stepped up to Anthony, with her chin tilted up slightly she whispered “you first have to admit to yourself that you find me irresistible.” Anthony immediately began to protest but Stacy continued. “You could have done this yourself. But ickle Anthony couldn’t talk himself out of coming to me, not out of his need of my assistance, but because secretly, and he may despise himself for it, he has always wanted me, despite what his blood status whispers to him.” When Stacy finished she was leaning very close toward Anthony and he leaned back slightly to look in her eyes.

They were clear blue, like the sky, shinning with challenge and something more. Anthony was indeed at war with himself. He didn’t believe that purebloods were more important than anyone else but it had been ingrained in his mind since he could remember, and his subconscious pushed rational reason to the side, giving him the strength to push his feelings for and muggleborn Anastasia to the far reaches of his mind. But he was growing weary. With a rush Anthony closed the distance between them with his arms wrapped around her and crashed his lips to hers, eyes falling closed.

The feeling of her melting against him and returning the kiss with passion had Anthony wondering why he had waited for so long. This was nothing like the first kiss so long ago now. The desperate movement of her tongue on his and her silky hair filling his hands had him shaking. His control slipping quickly he moved back almost as quickly and opened his eyes. Before him stood a witch with golden hair, flushed cheeks and damp lips. When she opened her eyes they were alight with triumph, and for the first time in his life Anthony felt uncertainty hit him.

“No one can know Duchess. Pureblood ideology is at its worse and anyone who messes with it…” he said.

Stacy merely smiled and patted him patronizingly on the cheek. “C’mon. We are off to play matchmaker.”

\--“And you’re sure James said to meet him over here?” Brea asked, suspicion tinting her voice. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust her best friend, but there were some moments when Stacy got a wicked grin that you just knew something was about to happen.

“He did. Said he wanted to get back at Filch for giving Sirius detention, and since Lily refused to help he turned to us. Said he needed ‘a couple of birds’ to pull off his greatest prank yet.” Stacy said, using air quotes.

Brea looked thoughtful. “That is something James would drag us into.” She continued to follow her lovely friend up staircase after staircase and down corridor after corridor before stopping before a door.  
When she stopped Stacy turned to Brea. “Alright we wait here.” Brea nodded, absentmindedly looking around, and she didn’t see Stacy’s eyes flick to her wand which was twirled in her hair to make a knot, as the day was warm.

Stacy flicked a glance to her watch, checking for the appropriate time before opening the door they had stopped at. When Brea leaned around to look inside Stacy quickly shoved the unsuspecting witch inside and pulled her wand from her hair. As Brea stumbled and reached for her wand, she let out a startled yelp as the door slammed behind her.

Stacy what’s going on?” Brea called. Stacy grinned at her success and quickly locked the door with her wand and cast a muffalato. Brea remained beating on the door and calling for Stacy to unlock the door. Stacy only left with a jaunty whistle.

To say Brea was beginning to panic was an understatement. What if that wasn’t Stacy? What if this was another stunt by Mcnair? Brea lost track of time but she must have given up on getting out after only thirty minutes. With a sigh she turned away from the door and felt around the room. “A broom closet! Really Stacy? NOT funny.” Brea yelled before sliding down the wall to sit on the stone floor in the small room. A moment later Brea was again startled when the door opened just long enough for her to blink at the light in the form of a little floating ball, floating up above her, and for another poor unsuspecting victim to be mercilessly shoved in side, the door slammed and locked. The broom closets newest victim immediately began to beat on the door before feeling around his robes in search of his wand, not finding it began to yell loudly at the door.

Brea sat in wide eyed shock as she watched Regulus angrily shout threats at Anthony, whom she assumed played the part in getting him into the room.

“Regulus that won’t work.” She said quietly from her spot on the floor.

Regulus whirled around to see her and felt panic fill him as he realized what happened. “I can’t be in here with you.”

Brea rolled her eyes “well tell that to Warwick and Stacy. When I get my hands on them… least you came with some light. I’ve been sitting for ages in the dark” she muttered vehemently.  
Regulus stood stiffly and remained silent, his grey eyes now looking anywhere but at her.

“Would you sit? I have the feeling we are in here for the night so you might as well enjoy the lovely stone bed we have.”

Regulus tried to ignore her but he couldn’t see a reason why he couldn’t do it while sitting, so he did so in the corner as far from the witch as possible.

Brea watched him curiously. “Why do you act as if I have the dragon pox? I’m not exactly ecstatic to be locked in the same room as one of my torturers. I mean I get it. You want to give in to your insane parents will and that’s completely fine but that doesn’t mean-“

“You don’t get it Brea. So stop assuming you do.” Regulus growled.

Brea thought quietly before replying. “So we have nothing but time. Tell me.”

Regulus leaned his head back against the wall, looking at the point just above her head. “I had it all planned out. I was going to make my parents proud. Prouder than they ever were of Sirius. And when he let them down, I just knew. It was my turn to be they son they wanted and he couldn’t, wouldn’t be.”

Brea was shocked to say the least. She had never heard him talk about it before. How willing he had been to step into the prodigal pureblood son shoes. She couldn’t help the frown that marred her face as she realized that the darkness in him went further than she believed.

“I felt so… worthy when I knew they expected me to become the Dark Lords right hand man. But then… then you came along and asked me what my dreams were if there was no predestined destiny already set before me and I realized I wanted something entirely different than before. And I thank you for that I do. But there’s this drawing need in me that I can’t fight. And you are taking it away from me by fighting back. I feel like this is my battle Brea. Not yours.”

Brea couldn’t believe what she just heard him say. And what it meant. He couldn’t fight his destiny. That he would take the dark mark, discover Voldemort’s horcrux and die trying to destroy it. He was drawn to it and when she told him she was going to destroy Voldemort somehow, his fate fought back. Brea’s eyes filled with tears as she came to this realization. She couldn’t stop it. She sniffed and crawled to his side.  
He flinched as she reached a hand out and took his hand. She vowed that she couldn’t give up. “I’m sorry Regulus. I didn’t mean to interfere. Your right. This is your battle. I have my own but… I’m not leaving you alone in this."

Regulus moved her hand from his cheek. “How can you say that after what I put you through?” guilt thick in his eyes and voice.

“You didn’t do anything Regulus.”

“That’s my point. I stood there and let McNair nearly drown you. I watched you struggle until you no longer moved. It haunts me.”  
Brea shivered as she remembered the cold water filling her mouth, throat, and lungs. “I’ll… I’ll get past it. And Mcnair will get his someday.” Brea said quietly. Even this she was uncertain in as she recalled Harry’s brief mention that even ten years after the war ended Mcnair was on the run. “Someday. And someday Regulus it will be a terrible memory but I’m stronger than I look.” She sat close to his side, seeking his warmth to chase away the cold memory. He automatically set his arm around her shoulder, hugging her to him.

“We aren’t free Brea. And assuming that we will persevere feels wrong.”

Brea picked at the hem of her skirt. “That’s because you lost hope. He took it from you. There is more for you. So much more. With me.” At his silence she looked up at his expression. It was full of conflicted uncertainty. “Right? Because I care you Regulus. I haven’t stopped.” She watched his beautiful eyes soften and he rested his forehead against hers.

“Of course Fox. We will figure this out in the end.” He whispered.

For the first time in ages Brea felt secure and confident. She would do this terrible and impossible task somehow. Even if it meant watching Regulus do the same.


	20. Reckless Courage

A satisfied sigh left Brea as she turned her final essay in, feeling confident and happy with her work. The week of testing had gone exceptionally well and Brea felt a lightness fill her that she hadn’t felt since her previous summer. With the exception of her grand defeat by the beastly basilisks, and nearly drowning by the hands of the equally beastly McNair, a nearly nine month long row with Regulus, nearly loosing Remus’s friendship, subjected to Lucius Malfoys less than desirable company for endless painful occlumency lessons, learned she might possibly be the offspring of a disgraced star, and the horribly unjustified deaths of her two friends, Brea felt the year might finally be looking up.

Remus was once again talking to her outside of dueling club, Severus and Lily were still friends, Regulus was sharing hidden secret smiles with her once again, and even Anthony could be seen watching Stacy with more than self-disgust. Her occlumency lessons were paying off as well, and she no longer had as much pain after a lesson with Lucius. And now as Brea left the classroom with the rest of the relieved fifth years, her O.W.L.s were complete and summer break was days away. Brea couldn’t say she was happy about leaving the castle, but she was indeed more than ready for a break.

The sparkling witch walked with a skip and a serene smile on her lips, she turned to head toward the courtyard when the small form of little Lara brushed by. “Hullo Lara!” Brea called happily. But when Lara ignored her friendly greeting and instead only broke into a run Brea realized something was off. With a frown she followed her little friend.

Following Lara quickly into now empty halls Brea could make out the sound of crying and increased her pace to a job. She lost sight of Lara on the second floor and with some nervous trepidation she went into the girl’s bathroom. A room she hadn’t been in since her epic failure during the holidays.

A gasp of panic left Brea when she saw the entrance to chamber of secrets was wide open, dark and intimidating.

“I wouldn’t go in there if I were you.” Myrtle taunted but Brea could swear she heard the sound of crying echoing from the black pit. Brea didn’t think, she lit her wand and disappeared into the dark tunnel, thoughts of Lara going to her death pushing Brea to a reckless pace.

In her haste Brea didn’t think to look for the sword of Gryffindor she had foolishly dropped many months ago, but she did slip to a stop when she reached the familiar wide open chamber.  
There knelt in the center of the room was Lara, her face held in her hands as she sobbed, loud wrenching cries.

“Lara, my lovely girl, I need you to please come here.” Brea tried to calmly coo to the hysterical little girl but Lara didn’t seem to hear the words, only cried louder. Before Brea could try to get the girls attention again the sound of stone on stone grated through the room. Brea knew that sound and losing all calm composure called frantically for Lara to listen to her. “Close your eyes Lara! Don’t open them for anything!” Brea cried out as she closed her eyes, thinking of what to do.

‘I’ve got to save Lara.’ She thought. Suddenly Lucius words echoed around her “dear dear Miss Fox. How foolish you are. Are you not a witch?” Brea gasped and held her wand tightly and at the ready, listening for the sound of the basilisks. Between Lara’s continued cries and the rasp of slithering scales on stone, Brea was having a difficult time placing where the beasts’ enormous head would be. She remembered Lara’s position as being directly in front of her. Brea took a chance and lifted her wand high above where Lara would be, and sent a few lacerating cruses, hoping one would find its mark. To her disappointment there was no screech of pain, only hissing from behind her. Brea whirled to directly the opposite direction and quickly repeated her firing of cruses. She nearly cried in joy when the awful screeching hisses of pain echoed around the chamber. Brea bravely opened her eyes, and widened them in fright as she got her first good look at the monster she had tried to destroy so many months ago. A dark satisfaction filled her as the beast slammed her head into the ceiling in pain, her enormous body curling and whipping in all directions at once. While the basilisks writhed in the painful loss of her eyesight Brea smiled. She lifted her wand again and sent a reducto, causing even more pain to the basilisks. The light of her red cruse caused the sword Brea had lost to shine a short ways from Brea and the basilisks.  
With a running start Brea dodged the wave of the snake’s body, vaulted over the trunk like tail and gripped HER sword. At last it felt right to have it in her fists. Brea held it with both hands and set her feet in a firm stance.

“Down here you pathetic worm.” She called. “After I destroy you I’m going to destroy your master. Using your own venom, I can promise you this.” Brea wickedly grinned. ‘There that sounded somewhat less pathetic than my last battle speech.’ During the speech the basilisk had finally stopped slamming her head into the ceiling and walls and with her superb hearing moved toward her tormentor.

Brea felt again dark satisfaction at the blood coming from the blinded snake’s eyes. She didn’t see the tale whip at her from the side and knock her to the side, slamming Brea’s head onto the stone floor. Brea felt sick to her stomach and pain flooded her mind and bones. She sat there knelt with her hands holding her head tightly, eyes clenched closed, unable to even think of anything other than how much her body hurt. She couldn’t think of why, or how, simply the boiling ache. Before she could push it back enough to open her eyes the blood curdling screams of defenseless Lara rang around the groaning witch.  
Finding some will, the need to save her friend breaking through the pain, Brea pushed her way to her feet, using the wall to steady her dazed and stumbling body. Brea realized as she opened her eyes that she was seeing double, but more importantly she saw the basilisks coiled around the little witch, head back as if ready to strike. Finding her reckless Gryffindor bravery, Brea weakly lifted the sword back up and stumbled forward.

With a strike of sheer luck the basilisks struck toward herself rather than Lara, the movement was so sudden Brea flinched and jerked the sword up just in time to impale the basilisk up through the roof of her jaw, killing her instantly. The force of the basilisk’s last strike pushed Brea to the ground with her momentum, forcing Brea to let go of the sword before one of the deadly fangs pierced her own skin.

For many long moments Brea lay there, fighting for her breath, with the dead snakes massive head partly laying limply on her leg. She hurt everywhere she realized. Brea held shaking hands before her and saw the raw scrapes from her fall, and the sword hilt being ripped from her grip. Her shoulder radiated with pain and Brea suspected it might be dislocated, and she didn’t even want to think about her head injury but she couldn’t ignore her warm blood trailing down the side of her face.

Finally mustering up the last bit of strength she had, she pulled her leg from beneath the beast’s body and crawled toward her friend. Lara was now standing in the center of the room, watching Brea with a suspiciously pleased smile. Brea weakly moved to her feet and gripped Lara with shaking hands, bending down to look for any injury.

“Lara are you alright?”

The girls smile turned into a smirk. “Oh yes. I am more than alright”

Brea nodded in relief and dropped her head, breathing deeply to catch her breath. “What in a unicorns beard were you thinking coming down here? You could have been killed! Or released that monster on the school!” Brea demanded, looking back up at the little girl.

Lara pulled an arm free and patted Brea on her flushed cheek. “You needed to be taught. Shown. You have to want it enough.”

“Wha-?” Brea began to ask but before her very eyes she watched as little Lara, sweet little Hufflepuff whom she had met during the previous Christmas holidays, disappeared from her very hands. Brea gasped in shock and looked around in wide eyed shock. “Lara?” When no answer came Brea finally realized what had happened. With a fit of anger Brea stomped her foot and screamed as loud as she could. “Blast you to fucking hell Lucius Malfoy!” She didn’t even care about the fact that her expletive was vulgar and probably unnecessary but it made her feel better. But not good enough.

She was angry beyond belief at what he had done. Conjured a sweet little girl for Brea to befriend, and believing said little girl was in imminent danger, sent her back into the ugly snakes pit, having herself scared out of her mind and knocked nearly unconscious. She couldn’t even get past it enough to be impressed by his genius plan, and amazing use of magic. Instead she growled to herself and stomped back to the basilisk.

She ruthlessly pulled what she was now dubbing HER sword from the cavernous mouth, pleased as the basilisks venom was absorbed by the blade and carefully stashed the sword in her bag. Brea turned to leave the green glowing chamber for good when a split thought crossed her mind. Searching her bag she pulled out a large empty jar and carefully pulled a fang loose, storing it within the jar.

“You never know.” She said to herself and at last pulled herself from the cursed pit. Relieved that she would never have to go in there again.

A short walk later, Brea was hissing the chamber closed, hopefully for eternity. Cringing with dread Brea chanced a look at her appearance. One of her stockings was ripped and the other was bunched around her ankle. Her robes were damp form the slick stone floors but otherwise didn’t seem in terrible shape. The same could not be said for the rest of her. Any movement of her left arm had Brea wincing and she knew it was dislocated. The palms of her hands appeared to be a mess of scrapes but the worst damaged was a deep gash near the center of her left eyebrow. The smeared trail of blood trailed down her face and neck, staining her pale hair and collar. “Bloody Malfoy she grumbled.

Gingerly she dug through her trusty bag and found a bottle of dittany, dabbing it along her angry looking gash. She winced at the sting and rolled her eyes at the pink scar left behind. Cleaning the blood and repairing her attire was simple enough but she knew she would need help with her shoulder and she knew just who could do it.

“Did you kill the beasty?” Moaning Myrtle asked from above Brea as she turned to leave.

“I did. She won’t be terrorizing this school ever again.

\--By the time Brea reached the Hogshead, the sun was nearly set and she knew she was missing dinner, but she had to get this last task done. Every little movement caused her shoulder horrible pain, causing her to grit her teeth, which in turn would cause her already aching head to pound furiously.

When she stomped into the run down pub. She didn’t even stop to speak to Aberforth, but went on ahead of the stairs and into the same room she and Lucius used each Sunday for their occlumency lessons. Brea allowed her previously tamped down anger free as she slammed the door closed behind her, breathing picking up as she caught sight of a relaxed Lucius Malfoy lounging in a faded high back chair, as if this were a normal meeting.

He didn’t bother with an excuse or lie, simply a pleased smirk and a patronizing clap of his hands.

Brea glowered dangerously with her fists clenched. “Do you have any inkling of an idea in that small pathetic inbred brain of yours what you put me through?” She raged, trying to keep her wince hidden.

Lucius didn’t rise to her insults but lifted his brows in mock surprise. “Were you not impressed?”

Brea gaped at him “Impressed? _Impressed?_  I nearly died trying to save a figment of your magic!”

Lucius sighed, pretending to be hurt. “Incredibly _impressive_ magic, don’t forget Miss Fox.”

“Fix my shoulder.  _Now_ Malfoy. I can’t exactly go to the hospital wing. And do you see this scar? I have you to thank you for that.” She jabbed a finger at her newly marked eyebrow.

Luscious tutted as he stood from his chair. “My my aren’t we vain. Now hold perfectly still.” He set his hands on Brea’s shoulder and arm. “As for your injuries they are no one’s fault but your own.” Brea gasped in indignation and when she opened her mouth to argue luscious pulled roughly on her arm, pushing it back into the socket. Brea’s eyes went wide in pain and she tried to bite back a whimper, but it escaped none the less.

“How... can you... say that you git?” Brea bit out as she moved slowly to sit on the bed, holding her shoulder gingerly.

Lucius sighed in disappointment. “You were doing so well, there in the moment and fighting to save someone you cared for. But the problem with you Miss Fox is you take every success and let it lift your arrogance up to cloud your judgment.” He gestured to her shoulder. “If you had not been so pleased with your pathetically small victory you would have been aware of the basilisks’ next move. Blinded with satisfaction you left yourself open and weak.” Lucius finished his lecture, his cold voice filled with anger. Brea watched him walk to the window, his back turned to her and she felt the impact of his words.

Seeing the truth in them.

Brea was shocked with herself. Realizing how feeling powerful had made her find pleasure in the monsters pain. Brea covered her face with shaking hands, no longer feeling their tenderness. “I’m sorry Lucius. My apologies.” She whispered.

“Shall we move on then or do you have more nonsense to waste my time with? No? Now then you finally did something right and acquired one of the only substances which can aide you.” He turned back toward the witch. “Unfortunate it is that your year at Hogwarts is ending. We will be unable to continue your… extracurricular lessons. I expect you to practice on your own.”

Brea nodded wearily, she finally looked up at luscious. She swallowed nervously at the calculating glint in his icy blue eyes. “in order to… further our mutual interest… it would be wise to shall we say begin research in just how the dark arts work.’

Brea’s eyes widened “you… you want me to practice dark magic?” she nearly exclaimed.

Lucius gave an admonishing smile and patted her cheek. “The more knowledgeable one is of what they are fighting dear Miss Fox could mean defeat or victory.” Lucius then turned to leave. With his hand on his cloak and hat hanging by the door he said over his shoulder. “And Miss Fox? I have heard whispers of the looks between you and the young Black. I am not one to discourage young love but some things just are not meant to be. A Son of Orion would never do for the daughter of a Sister, you will see.” And then he apparated away with quiet pop, leaving Brea silent and pondering.

\--Sticking to the shadows and walking with quiet steps Brea made her way to her hidden garden, occasionally watching over her shoulder for any followers. It was her final night at Hogwarts and after a long day of packing her belongings, and lazing away hours with her friends in the common room, Brea was out for more than a late night stroll.

Ducking through the opening in the stone wall, Brea felt a smile fill her face as she found Regulus there waiting for her. With a happy laugh she threw herself into him and hugged him tightly. It had been only a couple of weeks since their forced captivity in the broom closet but it felt like months to Brea. They had been unable to share more than looks and the occasional touch of the hands since. Brea had been unable to bring herself to snog him in the closet since their emotions were already rubbed raw. ‘But now?’ she thought as she leaned back to look up at him. He had a small smile, and his eyes were warm. ‘Now I wouldn’t mind.’

Regulus noticed the new scar and frowned. “What happened?” he asked with a touch of anger.

Brea pulled back and touched her brow nervously. She had easily dodged her friend’s inquiries about it quiet easily so she had forgotten all about it. She had meant to glamor it before meeting with Regulus.  
“Oh you know… Marauder stuff. All in good fun. They got their due believe you me.” Brea tried to chuckle convincingly as she moved to sit on a bench. Cringing internally at the never ending lie that was now her life she sought to change the subject. “This has been a long year Regulus. I can’t believe I’m saying it but I am looking forward to a few months of muggle world normalcy.”

Regulus frowned as he sat beside her on the bench. “We will be unable to see or write to each other. What will you do?”

Brea cleared her throat nervously. “I… plan to work in my little muggle store. Oh and I have a reading list the size of a small library, which I’m months behind on thanks to O.W.L.S.” She didn’t mention she would be visiting Knocturn Alley to find books about practicing the Dark Arts. “Visit Rose and Torrin’s graves.” She said quietly.

“I see.”

“Worry for you. The thought of you with… it’s dreadful.” Brea knew what would happen this summer. Regulus was sixteen.

“I can take care of myself Brea.” Regulus said with a touch of irritation. Her words didn’t bring the comfort he knew she meant, they instead reminded him his situation was quite impossible. He was weary and tired. More than any sixteen year old should be. Fed up with words Regulus turned to Brea and pulled her to him. She went willingly, and closed her eyes as he set his lips against hers.

She frowned when she didn’t feel herself melting immediately as she did a short time ago. She pulled back slightly and looked at him. He was the same Regulus she remembered. The wizard with the grey eyes and wavy black hair, the one she had hidden within the alcove, who helped bandage her wounds and danced in the rain. Lucius words a week ago echoed through her mind about a son of Orion could never be with a daughter of the Sisters. Telling herself she was letting Malfoys words get to her, she determined she was going to prove him wrong and pulled Black in for another kiss, deepening it immediately.

‘It felt… nice. It is nice.’ Brea thought was she allowed Regulus to slide his hands down her sides, and tangle his tongue with hers. Before Brea realized it she was thinking about whether she would be able to research more about Tom Riddle, and she forcefully threw herself back into her snog with Regulus.

Several moments later she finally pulled back. To her shock she wasn’t breathing erratically like he was. She missed the warmth she felt within his arms but… it wasn’t the same. ‘What’s wrong with me?

Ridiculous Malfoy and his words.’ She thought with a frown.

“What’s wrong?” Regulus asked at her frown.

“We will be missed soon. We need to go.” Brea said with her attempt to smile. She was utterly confused with herself and she didn’t know what to do or say. The best she could do right now was to walk away before she said something she didn’t mean.

Regulus however didn’t argue, seeing the sense behind her excuse. He ran a hand down her hair and smiled slightly. “I’ll miss you this summer.”

Brea hugged him tightly, blinking back tears. Kissing him may not be the same as it once was, but Brea missed the warmth of someone she loved holding her.

“I’ll miss you too.” And she left him in the garden with a last kiss on the cheek.

\--“Finally another year of hell is over.” Stacy said with a content sigh as she collapsed into an unladylike sprawl in their Hogwarts Express compartment. For the moment it was just Stacy and Brea occupying the compartment but Marleen and Lily said they would meet with the girls soon.

Brea gave a non-committal shrug and leaned her head back against the seat rest. Her recent experience with Regulus left many questions taking firm residence in her mind. No matter how many times she scolded herself that Malfoy was just being a prat and playing mind games, something had changed. She even tried to reason that her subconscious was toying with her because he hadn’t come to her rescue when Mcnair nearly drowned her.

“What’s with you?” Stacy asked, kicking Brea in the shin lightly.

Brea blinked and brought herself out of the mess that was her overly emotional mind and gave a playful frown. “Watch it you. I haven’t fully forgiven you.”

Stacy rolled her eyes before grinning mischievously. “The whisker burn on your cheeks says you might have.”

Brea gasped and covered her cheeks. She hadn’t even realized she had had small scratches from the stubble on Regulus’ face. She felt mortification burn her, wondering how many other had noticed. As if on que the compartment door slid open and Sirius sauntered in to sit next to Brea.

“Lovely day ladies for a train ride.” Brea gulped and hunched her shoulders, hoping Sirius was just here for a friendly chat, but the Cheshire grin on Stacy’s face said she was very wrong. “Question.” Sirius continued as he threw an arm around Brea’s shoulder and turned her to face him. “Who is the wanker that you have been snogging?”


	21. One Last Summer

The summer of 1977 was expected to be unbearably hot, with long days spent running from one cool air-conditioned building to the next, ice cream stands selling out within a few precious moments of opening, and hours upon hours soaking in cool swimming pools. And the summer of 1977 did not disappoint.

A month had passed since Brea left the Hogwarts Express, and her fifth year behind, with the determination to enjoy her few short, quiet, essay free, trying to destroy a mad dark lord-less months in ultimate muggle peace. So far she had managed just that. In order to avoid the burning heat of the day, Brea would wake before sunrise for a short jog before heading to her summer job. The same as the year before, working as a clerk in a small grocery shop, then ending her day with the younger orphans at the pool, buying them ice cream, or reading to them by the fan. By now Brea had grown out of her fear of causing the muggle children any harm, and she adored the feeling of their innocence snuggling next to her as she read some of her favorite childhood stories.

Brea had been so consumed with ignoring the outside world for the past month that she had yet to go to Rose and Torrin’s resting places. Somehow it would make the heinous reality all the more final. Irreversible. A painful sign of shattering and crushing failure on her part.

The feeling of peace she had to admit to herself brought on a sense of laziness. She had grown lax on keeping her occlumency shields in place, and had yet to make her trip to Knocturn alley for a lesson in dark magic. Frankly the thought of practicing the dark arts brightened her more than she wanted to admit. They were mysterious and powerful. And the ultimate draw: forbidden. She knew how addicting it was supposed to be. And Brea was equally afraid to admit that she might already have a creeping darkness in her. Ever sense her triumph over the basilisks she had felt it like a burning lump. A hollow darkness hidden deep inside; this grew at an increasing rate with the knowledge of how she could cause pain.

‘Isn’t love supposed to be more powerful though? I know love, so perhaps I’ll be alright.’ Brea thought to herself on her early morning jog. ‘I’ve got to do this... besides I just can’t let his greatness down.’ Brea thought sarcastically her Death Eater tutor, and made mental plans to make her way to the dark Knocturn alley.

\--An unexpected shiver made its way up Brea’s spine as she stood at the junction of the alleys Diagon and Knocturn. Looking up, she noticed the sun was blocked out by ominous storm clouds. “Well that’s a rather lovely sign.” She muttered to herself. Pushing her hair behind her shoulders she found her courage and took her first steps into the dark alley.

There were very few witches and wizards with her outside the shops, the few that were there blatantly turned to watch her pass by, inscrutable expressions on the faces. Brea began to feel nervous, certain they could read her inner most thoughts even with her occlumency skills increasing, and quickly pulled herself into Borgin and Burkes with a sigh.

The shop was dark and dusty no matter where she turned yet she was relieved to find no one else within the shop. Glancing around the she took in the various objects, each more gruesome in appearance than the last. There were clouded jars of mystery substances, wicked curved knives of various lengths, black candles, terrifying paintings, yellowed skulls, and so many things Brea didn’t even know the words to describe. In the far corner of the shop stood a small black bookcase, covered in thick dust and cobwebs. Brea made her way to it, searching the book titles for any on dark magic. Brea suspected most were cursed because the titles were largely ordinary wizarding books and virtually none looked to have anything to do with the dark arts. With a frustrated sigh at the thought of having to venture further into the ugly alley Brea turned away from the disappointing bookshelves and began to leave.

A few steps away from the bookshelf Brea paused and turned back to look once again. At the very bottom of the shelves where the cobwebs and dust were the thickest sat a series of book that stuck out from the rest more than they should have as all the books were the same size. Brea knelt down on the dirty floor to inspect closer. Pulling them out a look of awe crossed her face as a book that hadn’t been moved in decades rested at the back of the shelves, hidden for years. There among the dust and cobwebs lay a faded tome of black leather with the title in worn white. “Secrets of the Darkest Art” Brea whispered and quickly picked up the thick heavy book.

Looking around the shop she slipped the book in her bag and slipped the others back into their proper place. Leaving a few coins on the counter Brea quickly walked from the alley at nearly a run, relief fueling her, as rain began to fall.

\--Brea immediately allowed her curiosity to take over the moment she was alone in her orphanage room with her newly acquired book. With the curtains drawn and the only light in the room coming from her wand, Brea began to read the book. Within hours she had read it from cover to cover torn between horrification, and intrigue. The book had certainly been enlightening, particularly about horcruxes’. There was an in depth description of the three unforgivable curses, bringing Brea to shudder at how truly horrible they were. The thought of casting them filled her with revulsion and Brea took this as a good sign that she wasn’t being seduced by the draw of powerful dark magic. ‘Lucius said I needed to learn about them… not particularly use it…’ she told herself.

Something inside her told Brea that she was missing something however. And she needed to learn more. But Brea’s mind revolted at the idea of seeking more answers in that dreadful alley. Without a doubt Brea knew it was time to start her search for Tom Riddle once again. If anyone could teach her information about dark magic it would have to be the boy that Hagrid said was so talented at defending against it.  
She then began to wonder how much of the dark arts Regulus or Severus had learned. She was nearly afraid to even think about either of the wizards damaging their souls with such evilness. With her thoughts turned toward Regulus, Brea closed the book and huddled on her small bed, Gred rolling around in her lap.

“I do hope he’s ok Gred.” She whispered.

\--Checking her list one last time for confirmation that she had found the correct address, Brea looked at the building before her. A drab brick building and high railings, and the neatly painted sign of “Wool’s Orphanage”, looked mildly more inviting than the last dozen or so orphanages Brea had been to over the past week. Hagrid had let out the wonderful tidbit that Riddle was an orphan. Brea didn’t know if that meant he was a Londoner but she was optimistic.

Brea prepared her backstory mentally as she finished her walk to the buildings front door and with a steady gulp of air she knocked on the door, hopeful that someone could remember a boy who hadn’t lived with them in around thirty years.

Brea pasted her best smile on her face as the door swung open to a late aged woman, tall and thinly boned, faded hair pulled back into a sever bun, a crisply ironed black dress, but a curious smile and kind blue eyes.

“May I help you young lady?”

Brea cleared her throat. “Yes ma’am. You see… I’m searching for someone and I was hoping you might be able to help me find them.” She spoke with a clear voice and blinked innocent eyes.

The woman looked surprised but stood back, and waved Brea inside. “Of course, of course! I am Mrs. Cole, matron of Wool’s Orphanage.” Brea offered her hand which Mrs. Cole grasped with a spotted, papery thin hand.

“Very pleased indeed to meet you on this dreary day, Mrs. Cole. My name is Brea Riddle…” Brea lied and waited for a reaction, pleased when the old woman’s eyes widened in shock. Brea knew she had at last found the right place. She didn’t see the apprehension on the woman’s face, or the slight shake in her hand as she dropped the girls.

“I see… let’s have a cup of tea then.” The older mistress at last replied and turned to lead Brea down a hallway.

A short time later Brea was seated in a comfortable upholstered chair with a warm cup in her hands, the old Mrs. Cole seated across from her. Brea shifted and prepared to start her story, hopeful her acting skills hold up after one last sip.

“Mrs. Cole… I am in search of Tom Riddle, as he is my father.” She lied. Forcing a bit of moisture to her eyes, Brea gave an appropriate sniff and looked down at her cup of tea. “You see… my mother. She very recently passed away. And her dying wish was for me to find my father. They were… separated after the ship they were on, the Dara, was destroyed in an explosion on their way to Dubai for a holiday.” Brea paused for effect and wiped her tears away. Mrs. Cole was listening with an intense expression and offered a smile of encouraging condolence.

“You see Mrs. Cole… my mother survived and she always believed my father did as well, but she was never the same after that terrible night, and finally it took its toll on her ravaged soul. So I beg of you. Any… any information you might have on my father would aid me greatly on fulfilling my mother’s wish. If… if not finding him alive and well then at least knowing he has been laid to rest properly.” Brea finally ended her dramatic story with her voice breaking in the appropriate spots, and just the right amount of grief etched on her face.

Mrs. Cole sighed sadly and reached a hand across to pat Brea’s own. “There, there Miss Riddle. I am sorry for your loss. Losing a mother is never easy and I understand your need to find your father. I don’t know much however. It had been such a long time since the boy left our establishment. Once he finished school he never returned nor sent word on how he was doing. You might try the school he attended. Hogwarts School or some such strange name. I must apologize for I don’t have the contact information for the odd sounding school.”

Brea felt disappointment but covered with a watery smile. “I thank you for the information. Do… can you think of any of his favorite places to visit as a child? Or any other family he might have around still?”  
Mrs. Cole began to shake her head before hesitating. “There is… one place Tom was always… eager to go on the holidays… the seaside. A cliff we would sometimes take the children in order for them to enjoy the salty air and sand.”

Brea perked up visibly. “Oh! Mrs. Cole. Do you think you might tell me where I could find this cliff?

\--The rushing of the salty spray, carried by quick whirls of wind brought contentment for Brea a week later as she stood on the very edge of a cliff overlooking the angry ocean waves. Neither a seagull nor human in sight, and Brea was grateful for the solitude. Arms held wide, allowing the wind to pull at her hair, giving her the feeling of a bird in flight that she loved so much.  
The walk from the nearby bus station had taken several hours, and Brea had been a tad annoyed that the driver couldn’t make the overgrown path, meant for smaller vehicles. She hadn’t known quite what to expect, deep down she was hoping to find a little house with a short, round, middle aged Tom Riddle, ready to offer her warm apple cider tea and teach her everything he knew about dueling, and the dark arts. Apparently feindfyre was a difficult spell to learn and control on one’s own and she might need it to destroy one of the horcruxes’.

However all Brea found in supposedly one of the only places Tom Riddle might have enjoyed was a picturesque view of the ocean facing the west, a tall cliff covered in thick green grass. The only sound was the crashing of waves upon the cliffs bottom rocks. Brea had almost felt disappointment but it had quickly turned to serenity, the salty air filling her senses, vaguely familiar.

A deep breath left a smile on her face and she closed her eyes, letting the wind carry her worries away. In her mind she was a white winged dove, flying without a care about the sea. Brea no longer cared that her trail was once again cold. She stood there for hours, allowing the sun to set in front of her. At last in the remaining rays of the suns summer light she turned away from the edge, reluctant to leave. From the corner of her eye a flash of white caught her attention and Brea looked to watch a white fox disappear down a small trail.

Curious, Brea followed silently, smiling in wonder as she realized the trail led down to the sandy beach below. The water lapped more gently on the sand as the beach was located around a corner from the cliff, allowing the cliff to take the brunt of the ocean current. Brea walked along the beach in the sunset, and she noticed the tide began to come in, forcing Brea to finally admit that it was time she made it back. She already had a long walk ahead of her and didn’t think it would be wise to wait much longer. Brea promised she would return some day and left Toms Seaside Cliff, as she now called it in her mind.

\--Regulus shivered as he held his stomach, aching for the nauseous wave to leave him. To his disappointment it did not leave and he retched into a rubbish basket for the second time. He was a tumultuous riot of emotions, all of them negative. Sick with what he is hours from doing, fear of what will happen if he fails, anger at himself for allowing it to happen, dread in what the consequences will be, nervous in that he might actually enjoy it.

Regulus had just learned of his first mission, a mission handed to him from his older cousin Bellatrix. Wiping his mouth he thought back to a few moments before.

Sitting in Bellatrix Lestranges sitting room never felt welcoming. While the Lestranges certainly didn’t lack in wealth, they were very wealthy indeed, but their decorating sense was even worse than his mothers. He was sitting in a drab leather high back chair, directly in front of a mural of a hooded wizard casting what looked to be one of the unforgivable curses, the cruciatus if he were to guess, on a family of muggles. The little children’s faces twisted morbidly in pain as their parents were forced to watch. Regulus forced himself to look away, back to the Quidditch catalog he had brought with him.

He wasn’t sure why his father had ordered him to come to his cousin’s home, and she hadn’t been anymore enlightening when she gleefully left him to sit in the room alone. Sighing he tossed the catalog onto an end table. He had looked through it several times and was now quickly losing patience. Moments away from storming out of the horrid sitting room his cousin came back in, a mad light in her eyes and a childish spin.

“Going somewhere ickle Reggy?” Bellatrix asked in an overly sweet voice.

Regulus had never been particularly fond of her, she was quite a bit older than him and he recognized her as sadistically consumed by dark magic practice.

“The lavatory, cousin. I was on my way to the lavatory.” He bit out.

She gave a dry little laugh and shook her head. “Uh-uh I suggest you have a seat. You’ll want to hear this wonderful news right away.” Regulus tried to hide the nervous gulp and complied with her order.

“How old are you now dear cousin? Sixteen? Seventeen?”

“Sixteen.”

“Ah. Your father will be pleased then. You are about to make history Reggy.”

Regulus cringed at her ridiculous and childish nickname she used for him. “What do you mean Bellatrix?” he asked trying to sound impatiently bored.

Bellatrix bent down to his eye level, a wild grin to match her wild hair. “You are mere moments away from becoming the youngest wizard in history to take the dark mark.” She stood again and laughed.

Regulus felt light headed as he paled and her words sink in. “yes your father and mother are going to be immensely pleased. Imagine it Regulus. You stepped up when Sirius failed. Of course… you know the Dark Lord doesn’t just  _give_ away seats in the inner circle.”

Foreboding filled the air as Regulus asked the question he knew Bellatrix was just waiting for him to ask. “What… what do I have to do for the Dark Lord?”

His question seemed to please Bellatrix for she laughed loudly, her head thrown back before she settled down with a sneering smile. “Oh nothing TOO difficult, not for a Black. You don’t mind aiding the Dark Lord in his cause do you? No? Perfect. You can prove it by getting rid of the Darcy chit. Seems her father is publishing a book about blood equality. Pathetic idiot. So. Get rid of his daughter, and you please the dark lord, awarded his mark, and make mummy proud.”

Regulus felt bile rise and he swallowed it down. Choosing his next words carefully he forced himself to meet her eyes. “And my trace activation?” his voice dry and thick.  
Brea’s smile turned mocking. “Reggy… you are a Black!”

\--“I’m glad they were laid to rest close to each other.” Stacy whispered to Brea. “They didn’t deserve this Brea. They were innocent and young.” Brea nodded and felt tears burning down her face, wretched heartbreak holding her tight. She turned to Stacy and pulled her best friend into a close hug.

Brea hadn’t been able to find the will to come visit her departed friends until the very last moment of summer, just before the anniversary of their murder. When she finally told her plan to visit them Stacy agreed to go in a heartbeat, admitting that she had wanted to go for some time but it was not something she wished to do alone. This led to the witches finishing their school shopping and promising to meet for a goodbye to their friends.

Brea turned watery eyes back to the headstones, near irrefutable proof that Rose and Torrin were gone for good. Proof that evil had taken them from her in a time of chaos. That she hadn’t been fast enough to save everyone. The realization filling her that even if she succeeds in killing Voldemort that others were still going to die.

“It’s so unfair.”


	22. Dead Ends

What started as a solemn train ride for Brea and Stacy did not stay that way for long. It wasn’t long into the ride to Hogwarts before Sirius burst through the door on their compartment with only a grin an excited seventh year could bring. His eyes were alight with mischief and his laughter contagious. Brea was once again struck with how extraordinary the older Black brother truly was, rising above his family’s madness and corruption. She sometimes wondered why he had never been involved in a serious relationship. When she was reminded of her brother of her hearts fate, she felt sick, about how Harry and a broken Remus were all he had left in the world when his deranged cousin murdered him. Again Brea was deeply ashamed of how she had waited so long. To the agonizing point of it nearly being too late, if it wasn’t already.

“There you two lovely birds are! How does it feel to be in the presence of the best looking seventh year?” he said with exaggeration. Only Brea suspected he wasn’t exaggerating, he believed his words were truth.

Brea couldn’t help but laugh at his crestfallen face when Stacy happily looked around. “Sebastian Mooreland is in here?” speaking about the spectacularly fit Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain.

Before he could retort however, the missing three marauders, piled into the compartment along with Marleen, and Lily, chattering about the upcoming Longbottom wedding. Brea ended up mushed between Remus and Lily but she didn’t mind. The compartment was full of laughter and summer stories. Teasing of James being granted Head boy status and heartfelt congratulations to Lily for Head girl. Warm happiness filled her as she watched her friends enjoy one of the last rides they would have on the Hogwarts Express, until Lily mercilessly reminded James of the prefect meeting and Brea helped push him from the compartment, Remus following with a shake of his head.

The happiness within Brea dimmed when she soon found out there was a new sixth year Slytherin prefect. Anthony Warwick to be precise sat in the prefect compartment, stone faced, and silent, pointedly ignoring Brea’s glance. She felt apprehension suck the air from her lungs as she feared the worst.

At the welcoming feast she almost expected Dumbledore to give an announcement similar to the one he gave the year before, announcing the heinous act which took two of her friends. She painfully listened for him to announce Regulus’ death. But he made no such declaration. Simply went with his usual start of the year lecture after the sorting and left the young witches and wizards to their feast.  
Brea looked toward the Slytherin table, searched for the wavy black hair atop a handsome wizard, but there was none. Augusts Corrigan sat in her usual spot going on as if her arranged fiancé wasn’t missing. Anthony Warwick sat by her side talking to Severus. A slight spot of relief to Brea was the lack of McNair. Satisfied that he was at last out of her hair.

Finding no answers at the rival houses table she looked to Sirius who was seated next her. He seemed to know something was wrong too because the expression on his face when she looked to him was clouded and serious. He had been searching for his younger brother at the Slytherin table as well and he met her gaze. His usual youthfully bored grey eyes were a storm of apprehension. Neither spoke their worries. There was no need to and when the other students rose to leave the hall, Brea grabbed Sirius by the sleeve and pulled him towards the Headmaster.

“Professor Dumbledore! Sir! May we speak with you?” she called to him. Dumbledore ceased his progress from the Hall and turned back to the duo, curiosity shone in his eyes.

“Of course Miss Fox, Mr. Black.”

Sirius spoke up, worry in his voice. “Professor Sir… I’ve noticed my younger brother isn’t in attendance… I’m not in close contact and…” Sirius trailed off and Brea picked up his question.

“Headmaster sir, could you please tell us if you know why Regulus isn’t here?”

Dumbledore’s eyebrows lowered, leaving a moment of silence before answering. “It seems he has been taken abroad to finish his education.” Brea gasped in surprise and her hands wrapped around Sirius upper arm tightly.

Sirius managed to ask “what do you mean?”

“Your father wrote to the school informing that his younger son would no longer be attending our school as other arrangements had been made.” Brea swallowed, mind a-whirl with this information.

“Thank you Headmaster.” She said as she pulled a dazed Sirius from the great hall.

As they walked with a hurried pace Sirius pushed restless fingers through his hair. “I don’t like this Fox. I don’t like this at all.”

Brea nodded with a glint in her eyes. “Me neither Black. Me neither.”

\--The first weeks back at Hogwarts where tumultuous for the witch and wizard, both worried about the missing Regulus. Brea found she was unable to concentrate on classes as she played every possible scenario that could be the reason for his disappearances. Neither she nor Sirius bought the explanation Dumbledore gave. Brea believed the Headmaster found it possible but he had no reason to investigate further and left it at that.

And Brea sometimes wondered if she should too, but she just couldn’t find it in herself to leave it. Sirius was much more… well serious, despite the efforts of his friends. Brea had with caution asked every avenue she could without bringing suspicion upon herself. This of course meant that the only other person she could ask besides Dumbledore was Anthony Warwick. Which was easier said than done as the prat Slytherin was very well practiced in dodging unwanted attention.

At last her moment to interrogate the wizard came a month into the new term when they were paired for prefect duties. Not that he made it any easier in getting an answer out of him.

Their first night of rounds they were to patrol the second floor and the moment Brea saw him walking toward her she stood waiting, hands on hips and determination in her eyes.

“Anthony-“, she began but had to break off when he strode past her, ignoring the witch. Brea gaped and spun to stomp after him. “Warwick you bat nosed git you will stop.”

“Leave it Fox.” He said in a dangerous tone but otherwise he kept his stride.

“I can’t. Warwick if you know something you need to tell me.” She caught up to the taller wizard and pulled him to a stop, her hand twisted in the back of his robe. He sighed in frustration and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“That’s just it. I don’t know. A month before we were to leave for Hogwarts, he stopped replying to my owls deliveries...” he finally looked at the worried Brea. “I went to his house and all his father would say is that Regulus is doing important work… but Fox… I don’t think I want to know what he’s doing. Whatever it is it can’t be good… for him most of all.” Brea swallowed hard and nodded.

“Do you… do you think he’s lost to us?” she hesitated to ask.

Anthony looked at her with a hard expression. “If he is its best we leave it. There’s no hope for him and I don’t have the answers.”

Brea watched as he walked down the hall, left to quickly thinking. “But I know someone who might.”

\--That Sunday Brea went directly to the Hogshead hopeful to find Lucius there waiting for her but to her disappointment he was not present in their usual meeting place. Nor was he to be found on any Sunday afterwards. Brea felt herself loosing hope and felt depressed. She had known Regulus was to take the dark mark when he turned sixteen but the only other part of his future was that by eighteen he would be dead, somewhere in a cave, all alone. By Christmas Brea new she needed to take some sort of action. She had wasted nearly four months waiting for some miraculous bit of information letting Brea know what had happened to Regulus. All alone in the Gryffindor common room Brea pulled herself together. She had a horcrux to find and if the disappearance of Regulus was some indication then she was running out of time.

Brea pulled her list of Horcrux locations from the far reaches of her enchanted bag. There was the locket located in the cave, the Hufflepuff cup possibly within Bellatrix Lestranges home or vault, a ring believed to be in Voldemort’s family home- family unknown at the moment since Harry had managed to leave that bit of information out, some sort of journal which was possibly with Lucius, and the Ravenclaw diadem stashed in some sort of rubbish room the Room of Requirement conjures.

Brea sighed and dropped the paper down. “This is going to be quite impossible Greed.” She complained. “I mean the ring I have no right clue where to even begin. The journal… possibly be able to get from Malfoy. If the blonde pig would ever show up. Diadem it is then.”

Finding the elusive room where Ravenclaws diadem was apparently supposed to be was much more difficult than Brea thought it would be. On her first attempt, Brea did her paces in front of the tapestry thinking of a rubbish room. To her slight amusement the great Room simply transformed into an empty room save for a single rubbish can, which was sadly not holding the needed horcrux. On her second try the same thing happened once more only the room was wall to wall nothing but rubbish cans… all empty. Brea grew frustrated and left the room in peace, determined to think of what she required of the room. All through the Christmas holidays an idea would come to Brea randomly causing her to jump up in the middle of whatever she had been doing and go put her new idea to the test.

\--At the end of the holidays Brea was seated on the castle steps, frosty breathing, and fingers turning numb as she waited for her friends to arrive from the station, wracking her mind for what she needed to ask of the Room. She had marked off rubbish, trash, junk, and clutter all too unsatisfactory results. ‘I’m just not being specific enough.’ Brea tried bringing her faded memories into clarity. Something very difficult when the memories are of an eleven year old witch whose life was being turned upside down. Such events made it difficult to remember the details. Unfortunately for Brea, details were exactly what she needed right now. ‘what did Harry call that ridiculous room?’ a moment later Brea could see the carriages coming up from the station but also at that moment Brea realized what she needed to ask for. Rushing off to the seventh floor as fast as she could, legs and lungs burning by the time she reached it at last.

“Alright you. I know what I need you to be now. I remember. And I suspect you do as well and have been playing tricks on me. I was so close this entire time but you wanted specifics.” Brea chided the sentient room. Quickly filling her thoughts with her need of the Room of Hidden Things, she did her required paces. A door appeared and Brea slowly opened, prepared for a wave of frustration but instead fount wonder and the treasure trove she had just uncovered. Everywhere she looked were piles and hills and mountains of… of… things! Centuries and centuries of history were hidden away in the room.

Indistinguishable items were in unorganized splendor, tables and shelves covered in dust and anything you would want. Brea sudden wished she could spend the rest of her days exploring the room, learning the history of each item and why it was hidden away forever. This led to Brea’s next realization. Somehow she would have to find a small little diadem hidden away amongst the treasure. ‘Surely if harry could then I can as well?’ she thought to herself. With that in mind Brea began her journey, wandering through the paths created over time. At first glance nothing stood out to her so Brea determined to start from one end and work her way to the other. However the painful growl of her empty stomach let her know that she could do no more tonight. Already she would have to go all the way to the kitchens and make up an excuse for missing her friends first dinner back. Brea sighed and left the room. Promising that she would be back as soon as she could manage.

\--Later when Brea stumbled into the common room she was immediately set upon by Stacy and Sirius, both bombarding her with hugs and worried questions about her whereabouts. Warmed by the thought that she had two dear people who had missed her, Brea couldn’t help her wide smile. It felt good. She sometimes forgot that she was truly apart of others’ lives, and she gave a sheepish shrug.  
“Just exploring. Now tell me how many gifts you got.” She attempted to change the subject. Sirius rolled his eyes and walked away after ruffling Brea’s hair. Stacy however snatched Brea by the hand and pulled her through the chattering Gryffindors to a quiet window seat. Shoving Brea down to sit as she did as well, Stacy pulled a necklace from behind her shirt. Brea gasped in delight as she beheld the glittering gold chain with a gold heart hanging from it.

“I know… hearts are ridiculously cheesy and gaudy but… I love it all the same.” Stacy said with a dreamy sigh.

Brea lifted an eyebrow. “Warwick I assume?”

Stacy quickly covered Brea’s mouth. “Shhh. No one can know.” And she hid the necklace back under her shirt.

Brea rolled her eyes. “Right. Well it’s lovely just the same.” The witches were soon joined by Lily who complained that James sent her another bauble or something fancy that she clearly didn’t want. However when she mentioned that she did appreciate the book about the history of Goblin smithing, the volume of her voice increased causing Brea and Stacy to hide smiles.

Eventually the common room began to empty and Brea took the chance to speak with Sirius alone. Sitting on the arm of his favorite chair before the fire, her arm draped across the back to steady herself. For a while she said in silence, watching the fire as he did. Remus and James were playing a round of exploding snap as Peter kept them entertained with his yearly winter skiing adventures.

“No word I take it?” Brea asked softly, already knowing the answer.

“None.” Game his gruff reply.

“He’s out there still.” Brea tried for optimistic.

Sirius however scoffed sarcastically. “Of course he is. Out there doing the bidding of a mad man.”

“Surely he found a way out-“

“Fox there is no way out for him.” Sirius sighed and slumped in his chair, running a hand down his face. “Listen Dumbledore approached me after the feast. After we graduate he’s asked if I and several others would be willing to fight back. I’m going to do it.”

Brea had been expecting this to happen. After all there’s a very short window between now and 1981.

“You should. If anyone could make a difference it’s you Sirius… just be careful of whom you bring into this fight.” She whispered with her eyes on Peter. Sirius looked up at her in curiosity

“What do you mean by that Fox?”

“Just… be sure that the wizard who has your back… holds your secrets… be sure he is there for the right reasons. Darkness seduces betrayal to give birth to chaos. The last thing I want is for chaos to destroy you and those we hold dear.” She whispered. Sirius was left unsure what to say to Brea’s odd advice so he didn’t say anything at all. “Sirius… why have I never seen you in a relationship?” she asked quite bluntly and at his startled look she continued. “These are the best years of your life. I thought that’s what gents did in their youth. Break hearts with just their smile and leave them wanting more and all that rubbish.”  
Sirius couldn’t help the laugh that erupted from him and he pulled Brea onto his lap, her yelp of surprise echoed briefly. “Fox I have broken more hearts than you can imagine and I  _always_ leave em wanting more.”

“Gah! Sirius! Be serious!” Brea struggled to sit back up. Once back on her perch she huffed and pushed her hair out of her face. “Honestly now.”

Serious shrugged. “I don’t really fancy the idea of pulling some innocent witch into the insanity of my family. Of passing it on to little Sirius the second, or hell bringing them into this messed up cess pot we call Earth.”

Brea tried to keep a straight face but a snort of laughter escaped her and Sirius looked up in surprise. “What? How is any of that funny?”

Brea brought her snorting under control but she couldn’t hide her grin. “First off. Sirius the Second?”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “It has a nice ring eh? But honestly if I were to gift the world with my offspring I would be obligated to break Black tradition once again and give him the most muggle name I can think of.”  
Brea giggled madly at the thought of a Sirius introducing his progeny to the world with the plainest name possible. “I imagine… Bob… or Steve.”

Sirius smiled up at the young witch, appreciating how happy she looked for the moment, worry for his missing brother pushed back temporarily. “Steve it is then.”

\---If there was one thing Lucius Malfoy enjoyed it was his morning coffee in the peaceful silence of his office. Each morning he would begin the day’s business dealings only after he finished a cup of the bitter, dark liquid, preferably steaming hot. The brew brought him focus which he needed if he was to clean up the mess his father continually made of their dealings.

Lucius did have a healthy respect for his father, earned the difficult way at the end of a cruciatus curse. There was no love lost between father and son, something it had taken Lucius many years to get over. Years of watching his father disgustingly worship a wizard who was nothing more than a bit more advanced in his reading if you asked him. Lucius didn’t know what burned him with anger more, the fact that his father sold their freedom to a mad man, turning them into servants or that his father continually ignored what needed to be done as the head of the Malfoy fortune.

At an impossibly young age Lucius had had to step up and take care of the family’s business or they risked losing it all. The task was immensely difficult to do while away completing his education, yet with a healthy supply of owls and accommodating partners, Lucius single handedly brought the Malfoy fortune back to its glory. He didn’t even mind his mother arranging a marriage to Narcissa Black, while he had been so consumed with his family’s dealings. He knew her well enough and she was everything he would need in a Malfoy wife. Beautiful, intelligent, elegant, and distinctly lacking in her families mental illness.

Unlike her sister Bellatrix.

Until six years before Lucius had had everything planned out. Finish taking over the Malfoy business when he came of age, marry Narcissa, separate slowly from the Dark Lords service, live life in pureblood peace.

Then six years ago the Sisters began their whispers. Nothing was clear to him at first, just random words which Lucius played off as stress. Then the whispers grew stronger and concerning. Words spoken about how he would lose everything, his beloved social prominence, his wife and child, everything if he did not show Meropes daughter how to defeat her son.

Lucius had been raised with knowledge of the Seven Sisters, an ancestral high point of the Malfoys after all. He soon realized there must be a witch who could defeat Lord Voldemort and he was to help her. Lord Voldemort was the only wizard around who was truly capable of destroying everything Lucius was working toward. With the subtle clues he had set out to find the witch with his grandmother’s crystal necklace. And to his delight he found her at old Slughorn’s ridiculous Christmas party. He knew right away she wasn’t fit for the task. Too innocent. He needed to strip her of her innocence but he was at a temporary loss on how.

A brisk morning in march found Lucius in his office, coffee in hand, business correspondence at the ready when the whispers broke through, filling his mind with their urgency.  
She leaves soon. Prepare her, Son! We must finish this.

Lucius blinked as the voice left his mind and couldn’t help the glance around the room.

“What is the rush I wonder…?” Business dealings were put on hold as Lucius calculated a plan.


	23. Planning to Run

“Happy birthday Fred and George,” Brea whispered on the morning of April first. Standing at the top of the Astronomy tower, wishing a well life to the twins being brought into the world. She fired the last of her whiz bangs in what small celebration of their life she could manage. One she would never meet and the other riddled with guilt and sadness. That is if she doesn’t stop their fates. Her confidence in her success was greatly lacking by this point. She had been to the Room of Hidden Things many times over the past months, but the room was vast and disorganized. Summoning didn’t work, meaning Brea had to pick her way through each pile, a never ending complaint of how someone as arrogant as Voldemort could have thought to hide the diadem so well.

This was not the only problem the witch had been having as of late. Things were beginning to fall apart within the castle. Just last week during the full moon, Sirius had played a terrible prank on Severus, drawing him out to the shrieking shack to face down a transformed and savage Remus before James heroically rescued him. The act brought James and Lily together but an already spiraling Severus was sent even deeper.

Brea bowed her head, guilt at how oblivious she was towards others at times. If she hadn’t been so consumed with her worry over the still missing Regulus, or finding that blasted horcrux, then she would have realized something else was terribly wrong within the castle. For Rayna Darcy had been missing from school as well. She never arrived and deep down Brea knew why.

The missing Darcy had torn at Severus and then after his near death, his pain and anger had been great. The rift Brea had attempted to keep from happening, the one James created in their fifth year in her old life, came to be. Severus was unable to accept that James had saved him, accused him that it was probably his idea in the first place, was betrayed when Lily took James side.

Not only had Severus lost the witch he had fancied but he lost his best friend. His only friend. Whispers began to circulate about him living up to his Slytherin tendencies and began practicing the Dark Arts… rather enthusiastically.

Sirius acknowledged with a wince that he might have been wrong, he couldn’t hold back when an emotionally panicked Severus had made a snide comment about his suspicions on Remus.  
If any of this wasn’t horror enough for Brea then when she asked Sirius whom he decided to bring into the Order, he announced to her dismay Peter. Long ago Brea had made it an item to teach Peter courage but she was quickly finding out that something drastic should have happened to prevent any of these circumstances. There should have never been a dark side to seduce those of a weaker will, leaving Brea feeling out of place. For so long she had made a home here in this lonely time, but once again she was feeling a sense of restlessness.

So far the only good thing to have come with turning seventeen was her ability to apparate. Brea wasn’t even sure if she had had the trace on her, suck knowledge and intriquicies of how the ministry even did the trace at all was lost on her. But she had had no problem with the useful transportation magic.

As she had since her sixth year began, every Sunday, Brea would trek down to her meeting room with Lucius, and every Sunday, he would be absent, leaving Brea even more alone in her mission than she had been before she learned of his involvement. However the last Sunday of Brea’s sixth year she would finally get her meeting with the elusive Malfoy.

\--Prepared to wait for endless hours on a wizard who wouldn’t show, Brea trudged herself up the stairs and into the usual bland and dusty room. Her squeak of surprise when Lucius was there waiting impatiently, escaped her moments before her anger did.

“Where have you been all bloody year Malfoy?” Brea yelled, her eyes flashing, shoulders stiff, not caring if the wizard had thought to muffalato the room or not.

Lucius lifted his eyebrows in mock surprise. “Were you under the impression that I was at your beck and call? Miss Fox wants something so I’m to drop everything and come to you?”  
Brea glowered, “Of course not but I have been coming here every Sunday-“

“Mmm yes I know. Diligence is admirable. You will need it.”

“Where is Regulus?”

“Ah I was wondering when you would bring young Black into the conversation. He’s been doing the Dark Lords bidding of course. Notice any certain witches… missing… this past year?”

Hearing her suspicions confirmed sent Brea reeling. “I… I didn’t want it to be true.”

“Quite.”

“How do I help him Lucius?” Brea couldn’t help her pleading look as she gripped his arm, her eyes desperate.

She didn’t notice his sly smirk, the calculating glint in his eye. “Why my dear Miss Fox.” Lucius slowly removed Brea’s hand from his arm. “ I thought you would never ask. You see I actually came to give you warning. Rumor has it the Dark Lord has learned of a plan to kill him.”

At her gasp of panic he continued, “Not yours of course but it seems the Dark Lord is under the impression that little Black is planning something… unwise. Of course it wasn’t difficult for the Dark Lord to learn of his… attachment to you and several others. Your foolish friend has thoughtlessly put you, his friend Warwick and with his attachment of the mu- muggleborn, Euna in imminent danger.”

“What! They have nothing to do with this! We… we have to get them out of here… As far away from this wretched place as possible!” Brea’s shoulders began to heave in panic.

Lucius smiled consolingly and gave her hand a pat. “And we will. Of course we will. You will inform Warwick and Euna and I will inform Black. Do you have a… meeting place in mind?”

Brea immediately thought of Tom Riddle’s cliff. “Yes there’s this… this grand cliff overlooking the ocean.”

“Let me see a memory of it.” He demanded. Brea nodded and brought her memory of standing on the edge of the great cliff as Lucius entered her mind, giving him a mental map of where to meet.

“Excellent. Once you and your companions arrive at Kings Cross meet me there, and I will have Black with me as well. We will come up with a plan then.”

Brea nodded her acceptance furiously, apprehension and fear fueling her as she gave Lucius her thanks and left the room in a rush.

Nearing time for the final feast of the term Brea figured that would be where she would find stacy and Anthony.

It mattered not to Brea who saw her run into the Hall, march to a surprised Stacy, and mutter “I need to talk to you. Now. Meet me on the seventh floor.” And Before Stacy could reply Brea continued to a suspiciously watching Anthony. Stacy slipped out of the Great Hall as curious onlookers muttered and watched as Brea whispered in Anthony’s ear before pulling the reluctant wizard to his feet and forced him to follow her. Brea ignored his protesting and complaint about how he would now have to find a believable excuse on why the insane Fox chit was pulling him from the Great Hall. Brea then ignored Stacy’s questions as she summoned her usual room with the practice dummies and shoved the two inside.

“What is this place? What’s going on Brea?” Stacy asked nervously at the frightened look on her friends face. Anthony stubbornly put up a bored façade and leaned against the wall with his arms folded, waiting for an explanation in silence.

“I’ve been warned that we are in imminent danger. We have to leave as soon as we get to Kings Cross. I’ll apparate the two of you and I to the rendezvous point where we will make a plan to hide until I can figure out how to get us out of this.” Brea said in a rush as she paced, running anxious hands through her hair, face pale, eyes wild with panic.

Stacy for a brief second held out hope that her friend was playing some prank that James or Sirius had put her up to and let out a brief unbelieving laugh. “You’re joking right…” Yet at Brea's look she dropped her smile, “you’re not…”

Anthony spoke up at last, his eyes dark and suspicious. “I think we need a better explanation Fox. especially if you expect either of us to abandon our families. What’s going on?”

Brea sighed and dropped her head into her hands. “I’ve found out where Regulus has been and it’s not good. But what’s worse is that the fool went and hatched a plan to get us all killed! Now Voldemort is out to kill him, and because of Regulus affection of you Anthony he’s going after you and because of your willingness to throw your pureblood away for a muggleborn he’s going after Stacy. Voldemorts after me because of Regulus attachment to me. Therefore we are getting Regulus and leaving.”

Anthony didn’t answer for a moment and Stacy was lost in her shock, attempting to come with just how much danger they were in. “How do you know this?” Anthony asked.

Brea rubbed her face with her hands, trying to think of how to answer him. “Last year I learned I am distantly related to Lucius Malfoy. Cousins of some sort. Anyways I met with him just before I came for you two. He has an inside look of what’s going on with Voldemorts inner circle and he brought me the warning, promising to get Regulus to the meeting point and helping us come up with a plan to get you safe.”

“If you believe I’m willing to trust my life to Lucius Malfoy you are completely mad!” Anthony growled at her.

Brea’s eyes filled with tears. “You can trust him. Please we must.”

Anthony stubbornly refused to believe it and turned away.

Stacy whom had been quiet for some time as she listened to the exchange, surprise over Brea’s connection to the Malfoy whom she had heard such dark whispers about, slowly walked over to Anthony and took his hand urging him to look at her. “We have to Anthony.” She said quietly, and when he looked down at her the beautiful witch set her hand over her waist. “I wasn’t planning to come back next year anyways.”

Even through her panic Brea recognized the gesture of her best friend, and the calm look that crossed Anthony’s as he turned toward Stacy and sighed in acceptance.

“Fine. We’ll go with you. But you and that idiotic Black had better find a way out of this.”

Brea stood there in shock. She may not know much of the world but it was ingrained into every woman to know that protective look in a man’s eye as he gazes at the mother of his child. “Stacy… are you… are

you… you know?” Brea struggled to find the words and at Stacy’s sheepish shrug, Brea was left in astonishment. “Wh- when… how?”

Stacy rolled her eyes “You know how I’m sure. And the greenhouses…. Are usually vacant on the weekends ya know?”

Brea shook her head. She had no inkling of how to handle this new development, yet another life she was feeling responsible for, so she pushed it to the back of her mind. ‘I can’t think about how young and foolish they are right now. I can yell at them once we are safe.’ She thought before leaping back to the matter at hand. “Ok. Alright. We can handle this. Finish packing everything. Tomorrow at the platform, Anthony joins us and immediately I’ll take us to the spot. Let’s go.” And Brea ran from her room, all thoughts of horcrux hunting on hold.

\--The last time Brea would see her beloved Gryffindor common room, the only home she felt a connection to anymore, was spent pretending everything was ok. That she wasn’t hours from embarking on a dangerous journey into hiding until she could make it back to end this never ending madness. Instead of brooding over what a mess everything had become despite her meager efforts, she spent every last moment she could with her happy friends. The firewhiskey flowed freely in celebration of the seventh years surviving their final year, ready to take on the wizarding world as seemingly well.

Brea treasured the momentary joy on Sirius face, cheered happily when Lily pulled an astonished James in for a long time in coming kiss, and encouraged Remus to imbibe the firewhiskey while telling Sirius to shove off when he tried to get her and Stacy to partake themselves. Despite all the laughter and juvenile behavior often Brea’s eyes would meet Stacy’s, bringing them into momentary silence as they both acknowledge this would be their graduation celebration as well. Their last moments were upon them.

\--- _I took a deep inhale of the sweet cold air around me, my eyes closed in serenity and peace, a breeze caressing my face. With a sigh I open my eyes and smile in delight. All around me are white flowers; upon closer inspection I recognize them as lovely white snapdragons. I reach out to touch one when a yipping bark gives me pause and I glance up to look for the source. At first all I can see are the fields of snapdragons, bare grey trees in the short distance and the snow covered hills just beyond them._

_Figuring I imagined the curious sound I turn my attention back to the flowers. They are perfectly beautiful and the sent emanating from them is intoxicating. I feel stronger and lighter just from knowing they are there. Unable to resist me need, I again reach down and softly touch the tallest one near me. I snap my hand away as at my touch the once beautiful and healthy flower shrivels. Gasping in shock I stumble back and trip, feeling pain run up my arm. Frantically I watch around me as the fields of once beautiful flowers turned black, before crumbling into dust. The beautiful scent that once surrounded became tainted with the smell of dank decay. I hear the yipping bark once again, this time from behind me. Once I frantically turned, my knees covered in the remains of charred flowers, my arm screaming in pain. I can’t help but look down at my arm to see something so grotesque I can’t keep my bile down. There on my pale skin is the evil twisting dark mark; the pain nearly blinds me as the snake twists around the skull. My old scars on the tops of my hands are bleeding a bright red. A broken sob escapes me and when I look up I see the destruction that I brought on this once beautiful land. Once snow covered mountains were dark and jagged, fields of white snapdragons turned to dust, instead of snowflakes falling from the sky, ash rained down. I sit there with pathetic tears streaming down my face, lost and hopeless. The bark sounds again, looking up I see a handsome red fox watching me, a curious tilt of his head, and a frisk of his tail and like nothing happened I begin to feel better. Serenity in a dark place I had created._

Slowly Brea opened her eyes, blinking back heavy sleep, for a moment trying to remember her dream. She didn’t have them often and she always felt there was a deeper meaning to them, yet divination was not something in which she excelled at. Stacy however was always brilliant at them. Checking the time Brea saw that the hour was early enough to where she wouldn’t feel guilty about waking her friend.

“Stacy… you awake?” Brea whispered. She didn’t know why she was whispering as they were the sole occupants of the dorm but she shrugged it away. To her surprise Stacy was indeed awake.

“I am. Had a hard time sleeping.” Stacy answered followed with a deep yawn. “What is it?”

“Oh. I had a… odd dream. And you’re brilliant at these things. Do you think you could tell me what it means?”

Stacy gave another yawn. “Sure sweetie. Lay it on me.”

Brea gave a quick rundown on the details of her dream, waiting in silence as Stacy mulled it over.

“Dreaming in white is a sign of your innocence; the flower indicates that one of your strengths is your innocence. But when you touch it, it died right? The dark mark and pain on your arm suggests to me that you had this particular strength taken away by force and replaced it with darkness. Not sure what this is all saying but sounds like we need to be careful this afternoon.” Stacy said with a shudder and snuggled down in her blankets.

Brea lay there staring up at the ceiling thinking about Stacy’s explanation. “What about the fox?”

“Hmm? Oh the red fox? And you said you felt at peace? Should be obvious. Someone sly, cunning, and playful will make it all better.” Stacy replied matter of-factly leaving Brea with a frown.

“Well that certainly doesn’t sound like anyone I know.”

“Maybe you have yet to meet them.”

“Perhaps. You ready to get up? A good breakfast is just what we need if we are to make it through today.”

Stacy sighed. “I guess. When I see Black I’m going to give him a piece of my mind for dragging us into this.”

Brea was silent for a moment before gathering the courage to speak again. “Stacy… are you truly… you know?”

Stacy chuckled dryly. “You can say it Brea. Pregnant, with child, expanding, knocked up, bun in the oven, take your pick.”

Brea blinked back a tear. “Why Stacy?”

“Why? I didn’t  _mean_ for it to happen. No girl at seventeen does! But I was alone, and I had had feelings for the git for years. I finally managed to get him to acknowledge his own feelings and you know what? I didn’t want to wait anymore. And now I’m glad I didn’t. In a few hours we will be on the run because of something that we had nothing to do with. This is all yours and Regulus’ doing Brea.”

Brea felt herself being dragged down by guilt but she couldn’t help snapping back as she sat up to stare at her friend. “So you were just going to leave me here alone! Look around this room Stacy. Rose is dead. I don’t know if I could bear another empty bed.”

Stacy looked down her nose at Brea as she stood. “Well thanks to your death eater boyfriend there will be three empty beds next years.” And Stacy went to the bathroom, leaving a brooding Brea sitting with her shoulders hunched, hands fisted on the edge of the bed.

The train ride for the two witches was strained, as they both stubbornly held their silence toward each other. Brea knew she was being selfish and she needed to apologize. Something she was not used to doing as she was seldom in the wrong… in her opinion. Apologizing to Lucius meant they could move on with what they were doing rather than getting his arrogance to waver. Brea sighed and leaned her forehead against the cool glass of the train window, watching the rolling greenery slip by.

“I’m sorry for bringing you into this mess Stacy. You, Anthony and… the little one.” Brea said quietly as she looked over toward Stacy. Stacy set a hand over her stomach and nodded solemnly.

“I know you are. And as clever as you are I’m sure you will find a way to get us out of it.”

Brea looked back out the window, a worried frown marring her face. “I hope so.” Before pasting a smile on for Sirius and the others as they made their usual rounds, pulling the two witches with them as they celebrated through the train.

Brea felt herself breaking as her friends and herself piled off the Hogwarts Express. She gave tight hugs to each of them, tears in her eyes as she said goodbye. Promises to write were made but Brea was unsure if she would be able to. Knowing what it’s like to not have the chance to say goodbye, to take that last moment to memorize their smile, the color of their eyes, and the comfort of just being around someone you hold close to your heart. Brea wasn’t going to let it happen again so she took a moment with each of her closest friends. Lily’s lively green eyes and beautiful deep red hair, James crooked smile and messy hair, Remus’ cursed scars and gentleness. Brea found it in her to give Peter a goodbye pat, sadness at what she might have to do to stop him if she had to.  
Last came Sirius and Brea couldn’t help s broken sob as she threw herself into his arms, he chuckled and held her tightly.

“There, there mad fox I know you’ll miss me but really? All this?”

Brea sniffed and held him tighter. “I’m just afraid I’ll never see you again. You’re practically the only family I have Sirius. My oldest friend.”

Sirius shook his head and held her back away from him. “Alright, alright there. Now I’m sure ole Dumbles will allow you into the Order. We are bound to see each other then. And you can always write and we can always meet up somewhere in Hogsmead until you graduate. Then we will go from there. Aye?”

Brea wiped at her cheeks and nodded, for his benefit. Brea knew deep down it would never happen. She was saying goodbye. Committing each of his perfectly aristocratic features to her memory she leaned up and gave him a kiss on the cheek. In a last second gesture she tapped the tip of her nose like she always did when she had a secret to keep from him. He laughed just like she meant for him too, believing she was just being cheeky. Not knowing the vast sea of secrets the witch had. Had been able to hide for so long now. Adding to them that she knew where his brother was, what he had done. She kept it to herself. With a last watery smile she waved goodbye to her friends as they went their separate ways, turning to find Stacy waiting hand in hand with Anthony. Their trunks at their feet. Brea walked towards them slowly.

“Right then. Shall we? I’m going to shrink your trunks and put them in my bag here.” Brea said her voice weary. Anthony looked skeptical as he watched Brea store their trunks in her little bag. “Don’t ask. It was a gift.” Anthony shrugged.

Brea felt dread welling up inside as she held her hands out for the other two to hold onto. Pushing it aside Brea pictured Tom Riddles Cliff, nervous about side along apparition for the first time she tightened her grip painfully. The trio disappeared from the platform with a faint pop.


	24. Daggers Tangled With Stars

Lucius could feel nothing but righteous pride as he prepared himself to watch the following events unfold. A great deal of planning and ingenuity had gone into his scheme, hours of setting the game pieces into the right spot in order to achieve his goal. He supposed he should feel some amount of guilt over what he was about to do, but as young fresh faced Regulus Black walked into his office, his shoulders slumped, eyes glazed, in other words not at all how someone of such noble blood ought to hold themselves. Bad form and all. Seeing the wizard in such a defeated way set Lucius firmly on the chosen path. It would be for the best. In times like these, sacrifices are what motivate, revenge and hatred win wars.

\--If you told Brea before she left the train platform that things could get so much worse she would have laughed in denial, letting you know that their situation was already impossible, nothing else could possibly go wrong. And for the moment she was right. And then she pulled her friends away from the station.

Once the three appeared on the cliff, facing the hurried waves she remembered from nearly a year ago, Brea felt wrong. Her mind clouded over and she couldn’t think properly, her awareness was still there but she felt like an outsider in her own body.

 _“Turn to me.”_ Echoed forever through her mind. Brea wanted to refuse at first but to her foggy surprise her body listened. As she turned, she caught a glimpse of Stacy, a hand wrapped around her throat, a woman with crazed black eyes holding a wand to her friend’s temple. Stacy herself was choking back a whimper with her eyes closed as she covered her waist protectively. Next was Anthony, bound with the incarcerous spell, his eyes on Stacy. He seemed to be shouting something but Brea couldn’t seem to hear. She felt as if she should be doing something but after a moment she didn’t care. Next to Anthony stood a laughing McNair, and knelt at his feet a gaunt, pale faced Regulus. Brea managed to notice the fear in his eyes when they met her own and for a blink Brea felt her own panic before her mind glazed over again. Brea couldn’t even manage shock when Lucius Malfoy came into view. His head held high, blue eyes cold, his sneer biting.

“Watch them…” Brea immediately obeyed the command within her mind. With uncomprehending eyes Brea watched as the mad woman threw her head back in a wild laugh, saying something in a manic voice before she shoved a trembling Stacy until she fell to her knees. Stacy attempted to hold back her sobs but she knelt there in the wet grass, tear streaked eyes locked onto Anthony in desperation. Anthony himself jerked against his bonds repeatedly, the ropes cutting into his flesh as the witch with the delirious black eyes clutched Stacy by her beautiful golden hair and pulled her head back with a snap. Another

crazed moment later she stepped back from Brea’s best friend and drew her wand. Anthony’s shouts were drowned out by the mad witches Avada Kadavra.

Brea blinked as Stacy fell to the ground, so utterly still, her frozen cries still twisting her beautiful face into terror, crystal blue eyes no longer seeing her wizards broken body as McNair unleashed a cruciatus cruse on him. McNair cast it over and over, lasting for ages, Brea couldn’t hear his screams, or his bones breaking, but she could see his agony, until eventually he too stopped moving.

 _“Take this knife.”_ Brea turned her head toward Lucius and there in his outstretched hand lay a small gleaming dagger, its blade polished steel, a black carved handle a snake. Brea stepped forward without hesitation and picked up the cruelly beautiful blade with a steady hand, her eyes remaining on the Malfoy. _“Take this knife and kill Regulus Black with it.”_ For a moment after the order filled her mind Brea was able to feel her horror, her fear. For a brief moment Brea wanted to plead with Lucius. Ask him about how he could do such awful things. She had trusted him. But the moment was lost to Brea as her worries and fear disappeared into the fog once more and she turned to where Regulus remained knelt. As Brea stepped up to him, her eyes milky and unseeing, he turned his own up to her.

A look of uncomprehending shock held his body frozen when Brea knelt before him. His lips were moving but Brea couldn’t hear the words. To her the only words that mattered were her orders. Brea held the knife in both hands and held it above her head. Without a sound Brea buried the knife deep in his chest, the seconds following were full of hollow sounds and blurred movement. The mad witch danced around with her manic laughter surrounding them, shouts of McNair jeering about how he had waited so long for something like this filtered into her mind.

A moment later Brea felt her mind become her own once more, her horror finally set free as she screamed. Realizing her hands were still around the handle of the knife, now covered in blood she jerked them away. The sound of Regulus, fighting for breath through the blood filling his lungs became all she could hear. Hands shaking she moved to his head as he slumped toward the ground, she rested it in her lap.

“No, no, no, Regulus what have they done.” She moaned and wiped the hair from his face. A sob escaped her when blood streamed from the corner of his mouth as he tried to speak. His face turning white and eyes glazed in the panic of a painful death. Though he struggled Regulus was never able to say his last words. They remained in his mind as he slipped away. Brea cried deeply as she buried her face in his blood stained robe. Realization that he was gone, they were all gone began to sink in suffocating guilt.

“Leave us.” The commanding voice of Lucius broke through the darkening night, watching as the young witch cried just the way he wanted her to.

“Aw Lucius I wanted to have a bit of fun with the little witch.” The woman pouted.

“Bellatrix do not make me repeat myself.” Lucius said in a bored tone.

Bellatrix stomped a foot childishly but she obeyed and disapparated away followed by McNair a moment later.

“Ah, alone at last Miss Fox.”

Brea didn’t hear him, she remained focused on what she had just done, her fists twisted in the bloody robe.

“Good. You need that pain.” Lucius bent down beside Brea, grabbing her chin in a firm grip he forced her to look at him. “When the time comes you remember who caused this. Who truly did this to you… Understand?” he said in a low voice. Brea, upon sight of Lucius finally found a way to pull out of her grief. Her crumbled face smoothed into an angry hardened glare. Lucius smiled faintly and patted her on the cheek. “That’s my girl. Now go on. You no longer have distractions. Get some revenge.” Lucius stood once more and stepped back as Brea lunged toward him, he stepped to the side and she missed, her hands grabbing air.

“Now then, Miss Fox I told you that a son of Orion would never do for you.” And with that parting, Lucius disapparated, leaving a shattered Brea and her broken friends.

Once alone Brea looked around her in a daze, the sight was terrible and wretched. The death of her three friends began to suffocate her. ‘I did this. This is my fault.’ Brea thought as she sat there covered in dirt and blood. ‘My beautiful, lovely Stacy.’ Brea thought as she walked to her best friend. Seeing her blue eyes were still open Brea closed them with hands trembling uncontrollably, resting Stacy’s hands on her stomach, over the child who never had a chance. ‘This baby could have had a chance if I never existed…’ Brea thought, numbness setting in.

Next Brea moved to Anthony. She had to hold back her wave of nausea as she took in what they had done to him. Brea had to look away as she moved him to rest next to his lover, the mother of his child. ‘I shouldn’t have been here, and then I wouldn’t have dragged you into this.’ Brea moved to Regulus, tears streaming down, and her eyes frozen on the knife sticking up from his chest. Brea knew she had to remove it and with a hand held over her mouth, she pulled it out, a cry escaping her at the sound and she dropped the knife to the ground. “Oh Regulus this is my fault. You- you still h-had time! Time to redeem yourself, to try and do something good! A-and I took that away from you.” Brea sat beside him heavily, hugging her knees to her chest as she looked out at the ocean. “I should have never been. I didn’t fit here. Why did the sisters send me here? T-to meet all of your? To know how you are supposed to die, to want to change it. But I couldn’t. I’ll never bring an end to evil.” Brea whispered, Lucius words of revenge already fading beneath her guilt.

Seconds later a familiar jagged crack filled the space before Brea, she stood up with a surprised gasp and stumbled back. With wide eyes Brea watched as seven pale arms, thin and almost ethereal, reached from beyond the opening, their hands beckoning. Brea could no longer resist the urge to go with them than she could resist the first snow, and the serenity welling within her, chasing away the darkness of guilt, filled her with warmth. For a brief moment before setting her hands in two of the others Brea hesitated, she took one last look around to where her beautiful friend, her lover, and Regulus lay, but Brea did not feel sadness and she turned back to the beckoning hands. As she set her hands in theirs, the ones remaining smoothed around to her back as if in an embrace, urging her to join them. A sigh of contentment escaped her and Brea stepped through the opening.

Brea felt as if she surely must be in a dream. Everywhere she looked there were green rolling meadows and starry skies. The sky was so incredibly clear Brea felt was if she could see endless stars shining back at her. A stream cut gently through the green fields, heavy willows scattered the land. Everything seemed to shimmer, and Brea was certain that if she didn’t breathe she could hear the grass, the rocks, the trees, everything singing the loveliest of songs. Brea felt she could never leave this wonderful place, even if it lacked snow.

“Where am I?” she wondered aloud.

“You, dear Daughter, are on the world between time.” The loveliest voice spoke from behind Brea and she turned quickly. Seven of the most beautiful women Brea had seen stood before her, each with wild long hair of from various shades of blonde, voluptuous and wrapped in loosely hanging cloths, feet bare. The women were tall and their smiles serene. Brea couldn’t help the step back she took as her emotions came back to her. “Please do not be alarmed. I supposed you would not remember the first journey you had.” The woman closest to Brea spoke, her smile happy, gold eyes hopeful. Brea pondered her meaning for a quick moment.

“You brought me to 1972? You’re the seven sisters.” Brea asked accusation prevalent in her voice.

Another of the sisters stepped forward. “You are correct.”

Brea felt anger quickly replacing the serenity within her. “How could you do that? Have you any idea what this has done to me?”

The first sister smiled sadly. “I am afraid that it had to be done.”

Brea was flabbergasted. “Had to be done? I ruined everything!”

“You did everything perfectly lovely Daughter.”

“Allow us to explain.” The second sister suggested and led Brea to the stream. “Here let us cleanse you.” The sisters urged Brea to kneel at the water’s edge, each gathering around. Using handfuls of water from the stream, poured over Brea's arms, hands, and her hair, washing the blood and dirt. Once Brea was clean the second sister continued to kneel beside Brea as the others stepped back. “You were born in a time of irreparable heartbreak.” In the water of the stream the faces of Hermione, Harry, and Ron appeared to her. Brea listened intently as she gazed at faces of people she missed dearly. “Orion, angry with our rejection unleashed his own form of madness on the world. You see he felt giving a broken woman of great magical heritage, a woman named the false Merope, a son, as a way to seek revenge. Taking the form of a handsome noble man, the broken woman was helpless in his trap, until he left her to bear his Son. No ordinary son either as he was born with the power of an angry Orion, and without the ability to love.” The sister said sadly.

“This powerful son could understand nothing but hate, and he unleashed it on our children.”

Brea thought of Draco Malfoy which in turn made her think of Lucius Malfoy. “Lovely son of yours, Malfoy is.”

The second sister smiled sadly, “My Son is not perfect, he did his part well in preparing you.” Brea curled her lip.

“So why didn’t you simply send me back to when this Son of Orion was weak, and order me to murder him?” Brea spat bitterly.

The first sister spoke up again. “You could no more murder a child than we could. You were born to see what his wrath could leave behind, and we brought you to a time where he was freely creating chaos, to where you could learn, to find it within you to destroy him.” Brea gritted her teeth, angry impatience in her every feature.

“Is this all I am meant to be? A pawn.”

The first sister looked sad. “It is true that you were born for this purpose. Long ago I left behind clues leading your brilliant friend to find you, and myself. The clues to lead Maia's cold yet useful Son to you. All in order to prepare you, to cleanse the world of our father, of Orion’s Son.”

Brea couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “And what was to happen to me if I had succeeded.” She asked feeling cold and alone.

The first sister whom Brea now knew was supposed to be her mother, the true Merope had a happy smile. “You will succeed and be reunited with all those you hold dear.”

“Only they won’t know me will they?”

“No, my Daughter. Your war, what you have done for them… they will never know. Lives filled with trials, errors, and happiness, never knowing.

“Perfect! For the third time in my life I am entirely alone. Left with nothing.”

“You are never alone. Your love with the truest of blue eyes awaits your return.”

Brea scoffed but exhaustion was setting on her. Growing weary of everything around her.

Merope set her finely boned hand on Brea’s shoulder. “Why don’t you rest? When you wake you will know what to do.” Brea had the urge to shrug the woman’s hand from her but she had to admit. She was rather tired. Giving in she laid herself beside the stream, trailing her fingertips in the cool water as she closed her eyes. Before she allowed herself to drift off to sleep she asked one last question of her mother.

“Did… did I love Regulus?” she asked with her voice hardly a whisper.

“Yes Daughter you did. He is not your true love and you are about to learn there are many endless ways to love. Find strength in knowing you have touched the edges of love and that you have so much more to experience.”

Brea found some comfort that she hadn’t simply fooled herself into thinking she was in love. The last words Brea heard as she gave in to sleep where her mother whispering “You will find him at Hogwarts, and then you will bring love. You will bring happiness.” Before the world of dreams pulled her into it’s peace.

_A perfect wintery day awaits me just through the doors of a spectacular old house. I stand at the frost edged windows, a cup of steaming hot chocolate held in my hands, staring out at the snow covered street before me. The sun is high, the clouds sparse, and allowing freedom to the sun sending rays of light to turn the snow to diamonds. Not many people stroll the street before me, preferring to keep to their warm homes. I can hear it calling to me, the world outside. Desperate for me to join it and I want nothing more than to oblige, yet… something holds me back. Fear? Grief? Loneliness? All three of these have become prevalent in my life, taking ahold of me, draining my spirit it seems. I allow a deep sigh to escape and lean my overly warm forehead on the cold glass of the window. I feel stifled. Closed in… and I feel never ending guilt because of it. Here I am in this house so full of history, just waiting for me to turn it into a home, and yet I want to leave it behind. Escape its warmth for the bone deep chill of winter._

_As I lean there, my spot against my cold barrier, from the corner of my eye I see the most delightful scene of a puffy white fox trotting into my view. A lovely little creature with golden eyes and crisp white fur. I can’t help the smile as I notice how stubby her legs seem with her body hair so very… poufy. As I watch her, every so often she pauses to inspect a random spot in her path before continuing with her journey. A giggle escapes me as from out of nowhere a sleekly handsome fox with fiery red fur, his tail tipped in white, leaped from wherever he had been hiding. The two were quite the pair I noticed as I watched them._

_The white fox did her best to ignore her tormentor as she continued to inspect her path, searching for something. The way home perhaps. Or a delightful journey to the meadows. However the darling red fox was very much the pest, continuing his efforts to distract her from her course, a nip of the ear here, a pounce there. Eventually the white fox gave in to the urge to play and the two tumbled and leapt, hid and raced. Their happiness was intoxicating. I could have watched them all day, their freedom, their affection. As the sun set the two playful foxes must have finally decided it was time to make their way and so they left me._

_Miss White fox, her exploring button nose to the ground leading the way, mister red fox following behind, his head held high and alert. I felt sadness at their departure. I missed them. They left me wondering what sort of life they have led, what turned miss white fox into the curious explorer, what turned mister red fox into the wiley protector. There must be a story there. There always is. I realized long after the foxes had left and sir sun was replaced by madam moon that I had not moved from my spot at the window in a very long time. I set my cup of now very cold chocolate on the windowsill and turn away from the window, taking a long look at my empty and lonely house a small smile on my face. I want to fill it with people I love. I want to fill it with memories. My smile fades away and I look back out the window over my shoulder. But I want out there. In a never ending adventure. Where a story will always waiting to be told, just waiting, waiting for me to come and listen to its teller. A soul torn can never end well._


	25. Grey Skies

The sound of rain could barely be heard over the crashing of stormy waves breaking onto cruel jagged rocks and cliffs, and yet the sound of rain was the first thing to reach through Brea’s ears to her fogged mind. Imagining that she must be dreaming of the rain turning her secret Hogwarts garden into a lovely moving portrait of cloudy skies, dark wet benches, the trees and flowers enjoying the sounds as much as she. She sighed in contentment.

“I love you Fox Hole…” she whispered. “Mmm as well as you too ocean.”

Her next sense was feeling entering her limbs. The splash of rain drops on her bare skin bringing her consciousness closer to the surface. A frown wrinkled her forehead as she attempted to clear the confusion mudding up her thoughts.

‘Why is everything so terribly cold…and wet? Is that rain?’ her thoughts brought irritation and she instantly sought to lay blame. “Stacy did you open a window?” Brea grumbled and attempted to wrap her arms around herself for warmth. “Stacy?” Brea asked.

She flung an arm towards where Stacy usually slept in their dorm but when her hands encountered soggy grass and biting cold rocks Brea raised her head.

“What’s- ah”

Brea's curiosity was put on hold as she hissed with the sudden headache her actions brought on. Putting a hand to her forehead she slowly lifted up and glanced around. Before her was the edge of a black jagged cliff and she didn’t have to look over to know the deadly waves below her were thrashing. The day was very early, grey skies, yet surprisingly gentle wind and rain were just opposite of the rioting waves below.

She was dressed in her dark blue skirt and cloak, her hand clutched around her bag. A quick search and she found her wand up her sleeve. Everything was soaked, muddied with bits of grass sticking to it. And there was a bright crimson stain on the front of her once crisp pure white shirt.

Brea turned her pained gaze away from the evidence of what she had done and with a sigh she jabbed her filthy fingers into her equally filthy white hair, pushing it from her eyes and laid back down, not caring about the painful thump her already aching head made with the ground, and she laid there blinking the light rain drops from her eyes as they landed on her. She laid there in the early morning mist and she remembered. She felt the sting of a bruised cut on her bottom lip and Brea remembered how she received it. She remembered everything. Not just what happened with Lucius and… and her dear Stacy, Anthony, and Regulus. Stacy with her honest and clear eyes full of blue lightning. Anthony with his protective gazes and loyalty. Regulus with his kind soul trapped in an unkind life. All three meeting a terrible end and all because she was a part of their lives.

Not only was their murder still fresh in her mind but so was Toms.

Brea rolled onto her side and curled into herself as she began to shake uncontrollably. Turning glazed eyes onto the evidence of what she had done.

Closing her eyes against the cold mist and grey skies Brea slipped into her memories of the past seven months.


	26. Infiltrating Hogwarts

_Seven months before…._

A soft breeze brushed Brea’s hair across her cheek, rustling the grass. Nearby birds were chirping up a cheery morning song, bringing the sleeping witch to awareness. Brea opened her eyes and sat up quickly, her hair whipping around her as she took in her surroundings. Recognizing the cliff from before, Brea was suddenly wondering if the past twenty-four hours had been a dream. A nightmare really. Looking around she could find no sign of the earlier events. No sign of torture and blood. Afraid to feel relived, to get her hopes up, yet she did anyway, preferring to believe that what she had indeed had a terrible soul ripping nightmare. Being imperiused, watching her friends die and even murdering Regulus herself. Brea shuddered at how real it had felt. Something must have gone wrong when she tried to pull her two friends into side along apparition. They were separated that’s all.

Brea sighed in momentary relief, her shoulders sagging from the guilty weight being lifted. A new gust of wind pushed her hair into her face wildly, causing Brea to lift her arms and push the offending strands from her eyes. ‘What now?’ she wondered. ‘I suppose visiting Diagon Alley is the first option. See if perhaps one of them managed to make it there.’ Checking her watch for the time to find she had slept well past her usual wakeup. With this in mind Brea stood and dusted her jeans off, stretching off the aches of sleeping on the ground.

“Oh! Gred are you alright in there?” Brea peered into Gred’s jumper pocket, a sigh in relief when her little friend squeaked back. Brea gave a light smile, “Alright you, how about some breakfast at the Leaky Cauldron while we try and figure out what we must do next.” A quick look around for assurance that she had all of her items, Brea turned on the spot with a pop, before arriving in the old pub.

Upon first glance the pub seemed quite normal, various less than cheerful looking wizards and witches, mostly dressed in dark robes, were scattered about, the lights were dim and the furniture worn. Behind the counter a young man stacked glasses with his wand while wiping down a picture. Brea received a wide range of curious looks as she walked casually to the counter to order a much needed breakfast. Giving a bright smile to the wizard behind the counter as he noticed her approach, a slight frown coming to his eyes.

“Hello there, you must be new!” Brea said in a friendly tone. “I’m Brea, pleased to meet you…”

“Tom. And I’ve worked here all my life thank you.” His tone giving the hint that he was slightly offended.

Brea’s smile faded slightly, a creeping sense of foreboding clouding her earlier mood. “I see… Tom. If you please, might I order? I fear I over slept, long tiring journey and all that.”

Tom shrugged and listened to her order of sausage and toast, before turning to fill her order. Brea removed her sweater, laying it across the back of a chair at the long center table, before taking her seat next to a middle aged witch with a fancy hat decorated with all manner of feathers and flowers. Attempting to give a smiling nod to the witch who in turn muttered “while I never…” before promptly moving to another seat. To say Brea was shocked couldn’t satisfy what she was feeling in that moment. As Brea sat in her chair wondering what she could have done to offend the stranger, Tom approached with her platter. After he sat it down Brea gripped his sleeve, holding him in place.

“Excuse me… Tom. Do I have something on my face? Did I do something that would be offensive to anyone?” she asked in a worried tone.

Tom looked around before bending down so he could speak quietly, “you are dressed rather odd…” Brea looked down at herself. Her blue jeans were worn and faded, her t-shirt, while curve hugging could hardly be considered inappropriate, it was of some muggle band Sirius enjoyed, gifting her with the shirt for Christmas one year.

Brea gave a half laugh as she looked back at him. “You’re joking right? I wore this exact ensemble the last time I was here for school shopping…” Brea trailed off as Toms face didn’t change and she looked around more closely. A dark feeling filled Brea, thoughts of perhaps her dreams had be true and she really did watch two of her friends murdered and she herself did… ‘No it’s unthinkable. The stress is simply getting to me…’ Brea told herself. But there was still a shadow in her mind. A tiny niggling of doubt. Brief glimpses of her nightmare came back to her, more specifically meeting the Seven Sisters. Her mother.

“They didn’t…” Brea gasped out quietly. Her eyes wide, she attempted to pick out any details from the Leaky Cauldron yet everything looked the same as it always did. From her first visit with Hermione, Ron, and Harry, to her last one with Stacy. In fact the only difference Brea could find was instead of a much older Tom behind the counter there was a much younger Tom. Swallowing hard Brea turned wide eyes up to Tom who had been waiting with an air of impatience for the witch to let his sleeve free from her grip. “T- Tom do you think, that is do you have the current Daily Prophet handy?”

Tom nodded and quickly retrieved the paper for the odd witch. Once she had the paper she folded it tightly and tucked it under her arm. Standing with her plate in her hands she whispered with a barely heard voice, “I think I’d like to purchase a room for the night, if you please Tom.”

\--Brea sat for hours on the rickety bed in her newly purchased room, staring at the folded newspaper. Afraid her suspicions might be true, terrified that her awful nightmare just might be reality. She sat there searching for some unknown answer, but none would come to her. Deep down she knew the newspaper would hold the answer. She just needed to find the strength to look upon it. Confirm it. Go mad about it. Brea knew she was wasting time, sitting there in silence, doing nothing. She should be out there looking for her friends, destroying Horcruxes, anything other than what she was stuck doing.

With a sigh at last, Brea finally gave in, and snatched up the paper, ready to laugh off her silly suspicions. She closed her eyes, flinching at the images of her tortured friends, of the blood she possibly had shed, she quickly opened them, her gaze immediately finding the date there at the top. July twenty fourth. Nineteen forty-four.

Brea couldn’t move. Reality once more slamming into her. Turning her world upside down. Not only had Lucius Malfoy betrayed her, imperiused her, she had watched as the crazy witch she now knew as Bellatrix Lestrange used the killing curse on her best friend, watched as Anthony Warwick’s body was tortured and broken until Death finally found the mercy to end it. Brea fought back tears, but they came anyways and raised shaking hands to her face. She had taken Malfoys dagger… and murdered the man she loved.

Brea moaned in anguish and curled up on her bed. It had happened. And she felt overwhelming guilt once more crashing upon her. Brea no longer felt hungry, just sick. It took long hours of drowning in her grief, self-hatred, and replayed memories for Brea to finally find her strength. Anger. Eventually the last words Malfoy spoke to her broke through.

_“Good. You need that pain.”…_

_“When the time comes you remember who caused this. Who truly did this to you? Understand?”…_

_“That’s my girl. Now go on. You no longer have distractions. Get some revenge.”_

Anger began to course through her, lighting her on fire. “I have pain. And I know who truly brought it upon me.” Brea growled to the newspaper still gripped tightly in her hands. She now understood what Lucius had done. “Well played you bastard.” Brea felt the moment was appropriate for some bad form name calling. Brea sat the paper down and began to pace. Now that she accepted that she was truly even further away from home than ever before, in nineteen forty-four, Brea needed a plan.

She brought forth the memories of the Seven Sisters. She had truly met them yet she preferred to ignore the fact that she had indeed met her mother. Instead focusing on the fact that they freely admitted that the only reason she existed was to destroy Orion’s son. “You will find him at Hogwarts.” Her thoughts replayed.

“So Voldemort is at Hogwarts Gred. Either as a student or a teacher.” Brea muttered as she sat herself back upon her bed. Something in the Daily Prophet caught her eye and a sly look came to her amber eyes, the grief sliding to the back as a plan took its place. “Which means we will be as well. But I will not be returning as a student.”

A dry laugh escaped her as she laid down on her back holding the paper above and she read aloud. “Hogwarts Interns Wanted: A series of Professors seek assistants for Advanced Charms, Advanced Astronomy, Advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts. Applicants must excel on O.W.L.S., N.E.W.T.S. Letter of recommendation a must. Interview and practical will be required. Deadline: August twentieth, nineteen forty four. Contact Professor Dippit for arrangements.”

Setting the paper aside Brea leaned up on one arm. “This is perfect Gred. I will have access to both of the Hogwarts populations. Students and professors, Gred. That way if Voldemort is hiding at Hogwarts indeed like… Merope said… I will find him. And I will end this just as the Sisters wanted.” Brea said fiercely. Gred gave a little squeak and Brea sighed. “I know. I’ve got to muddle my way through my N.E.W.T.S haven’t I? Well then first things first. Once again a visit to the Potter vault, attiring myself… appropriately, and then studying for my N.E.W.T.S. I wonder if… this was part of the Sister’s plan all along. I have my recommendation already. How very… Slyterin all of this is.”

\--Over the course of the next month Brea prepared herself for the role she now knew she had to play. A part in a heroic story of good triumphing over evil. Her sole purpose for even being born. As depressing as that must sound Brea couldn’t help the side rush the knowledge gave her. She was actually created to be a heroin. The fate of so many lives and their happiness rested on her. Brea wanted to feel intimidated by the burdened and her record of mistakes but she was determined. Stacy and Anthony will live on and have their child. Regulus will get the chance to be the brother Sirius had always wanted and deserved.

They would all have the lives they were meant to have. She might fade away from their memories into nonexistence, never knowing that it was she who had saved them from Orion’s fate, but they would be alive. And unafraid. And so very free. Brea knew all of that would be worth it.

After her first night in the room above the Leaky Cauldron Brea purchased herself, along with her era appropriate wardrobe, an extended tent in which she and Gred were to call home. Setting up on Tom’s cliff, the doorway facing the ocean and the setting sun. The tent was the equivalent to a small single room apartment, the only furniture, a hammock, table and chair, fireplace, and a small shower. Lacking electricity was no problem for Brea as she ate her meals at the Leaky Cauldron and used magic for everything else.

Her lack of employment meant Brea had to time her visits to Gringotts, hoping to avoid an awkward meeting with any 1940s Potters. The first week was spent assimilating herself to fit in with the other witches of the decade. Burying her jeans and t-shirts, her shorter skirts and dresses, replacing them with dark colored, straight skirts to her mid-calf and white blouses. Sneakers were replaced with mid heeled black dress shoes, white stockings replaced with black.

Brea’s favorite purchase was her first robe that was not a part of the school uniform. Long and flowing, the color of dark red wine, trimmed in black silk. She almost balked at the extravagant price, but when she tied the robe at the chest, the long sleeves with wide openings, reminding her of a medieval dress, Brea knew it was for her. Brea learned to tie her hair at night for wide elegant curls the next day, taught herself where to place hairpins for the elegant look Brea had seen on the other witches. She would miss the wildness of the seventies, when wild and free hair was accepted. Here however the art of sophistication was the only way a woman would be accepted. And acceptance was paramount in her part.

Once Brea felt she looked the part of a forty’s witch she came up with her back story. A French homeschooled witch with the name Brea Rusé. Finding herself quite clever with her changing her last name to its French translation. Her French accent was quite rusty, as without Hermione by her side encouraging her to expand into the language, Brea had allowed time to ruin her young achievement. Attributing her poorly accented French English into her story as she was constantly abroad with her only family, her uncle Harry Rusé. An explorer of sorts.

Feeling confident with her changes Brea worked on her persona. A young defense against the dark arts apprentice, a witch apprentice at that, will need aloof confidence, with her chin held high and a piercing stare. A no nonsense attitude.

Using her new steely confidence, Brea made an appointment with the Ministry Department of Magical Education for her N.E.W.T. examinations. Her paperwork and explanation of learning abroad were accepted without question, much to her heart pounding relief. Brea had two weeks to study a year’s worth of information. For the duration of her time before the exams Brea slept in small naps, ate rarely, consuming black coffee for sustenance more than anything. Her weight became gaunt but she worked hard. Failure was not an option, sacrificing food and sleep seemed trivial in the scale of possible consequences.  
When at last Brea sat for her exams she was beyond exhausted but confident. She was the lone occupant of the Ministries exam room, allowing her the peace to do her work. Hour after hour, Brea worked, never pausing for a break. She just wanted to get them over with so she could enjoy a grand platter of pasta and sleep for two days. Which once she completed her last practical test, casting her corporeal patronus, is exactly what she did. Brea felt so exhausted that she couldn’t even worry about how she had done, just content that it was done. All she had to do now was wait for her score, which would be in the next day or so. Just in time to send off her application to Hogwarts.

Naturally as these things go Brea scored perfectly. Brea knew not if it was truly her hard work, or manipulation of the Seven Sisters once more, all she knew for certain was that she had come this far with or without their help. Surely her interview would go well.

It did not go well.

The morning of her interview Brea dressed in her most mature black skirt, tucked in her long sleeved white button down blouse, pinned her curled hair and tied on her robe. A bit of makeup and perfume, leaving Brea appreciating her image of mature and confident young woman.

Brea met an escort at the gates to Hogwarts precisely an hour before her interview. A burly man not unlike Hagrid though obviously not half giant. He introduced himself as Ogg and led Brea to an awaiting carriage. Brea however stopped short at the sight of the frighteningly beautiful thestral tethered to the carriage. Realizing the reason Brea could now see them was because she had witnessed the murder of her friends strengthened her resolve ever more and Brea went to the castle unafraid. By the time Brea accepted a seat in the familiar great hall to await her appointment she had a mere half hour to wait. That half hour however came and went and still Brea waited well past two hours. Brea began to feel irritation and her bones felt an ache from such patient waiting.

The time finally came when Headmaster Dippit made his appearance.

A wizard with colorful and extravagant robes and a matching hat strode in quickly, his white hair flowing freely and his face kind. “You must excuse the wait I put you through poor dear girl. A Headmaster of such a great school has many responsibilities. Some become first priority with no prior warning.” He rambled on in a pleasant voice as he took a seat at the professors table, Brea nodding her understanding, seeking patience while Dippit pulled parchments and a quill from his wide opened sleeve. “Now I am Headmaster Dippit and I will be interviewing you for…. Ah assistant to our wonderful Professor Merrythought. She’s wanting to retire you know. Truly wonderful and talented professor she is. Will be difficult to replace.”

His thoughtless words unknowingly brought Brea apprehension, the thought of how impressive Professor Merrythought must be and just how much more impressive Brea will have to be to secure her spot. Brea didn’t know if she should say anything while Dippit scribbled some notes on his parchment, causing Brea to fidget. “I shall do my best Headmaster.” Brea blurted.

“What was that?” he looked up in confusion.

Fearing that she may have sounded presumptuous Brea changed to “I heard she was the best… Headmaster…”

Dippit on smiled and nodded before looking back to his parchments.

“Now I see here we have excellent scores on both O.W.L. and N.E.W.T levels in all of the appropriate classes, a very encouraging letter of recommendation from… Professor Estrana.... I’m sorry I don’t recall him.”

Brea sat up straight “yes um… see I traveled with my uncle and one year in Spain I participated in a dueling club… did rather quite well and Professor Estrana was indeed impressed with me.” Brea finished her half lie with a hopeful gulp.

Professor Dippit gave a quiet “… Home schooled you say? This is distressing… How will you handle to situation of assisting in the teaching of hundreds of students? Why you are very young indeed there must be current students older than yourself.”

Brea felt uncontrollable anger flash through her as he spoke his doubt in her abilities and stood from her seat, her amber eyes flashing. “I am very certain I can deal with young witches and wizards. I have had wonderful tutors and been around people of all different backgrounds. I am very confident in my abilities to teach in assistance to Professor Merrythought.” Brea sat down in a huff instantly berating herself for losing control. When Dippit didn’t reply right away Brea looked at him and watched as he wrote more notes on his parchments.

Dippit finally looked back at the young witch and folded his hands together. “Thank you Miss Rusé. That will be all.” The headmaster said calmly, dismissing Brea.  
Brea sat there in slight shock. “Headmaster I haven’t done the practical-“

He interrupted with a small smile. “It won’t be necessary. I will have Ogg meet you to escort you from the grounds.” His voice calm and pleasant but his eyes were calculating.

Brea stood on almost shaking legs feeling defeated as she gave a slight incline of her head before she straightened her back and lifted her chin. “I appreciate your time Headmaster Dippit.” And Brea stormed from the castle. Angry with Dippit, angry with herself, angry with the seven sisters, angry with Voldemort. She was angry with everyone and everything. Not willing to accept failure quite yet, Brea now had to go back to her tent and come up with another plan. Once the upset witch was outside of the castle she paced below the steps, muttering to herself of where she went wrong.

“You must be Miss Rusé.” A familiar voice spoke from behind her. Brea turned to see a slightly younger Professor Dumbledore, standing with his hands clasped behind his back, eyes twinkling kindly as always. Brea hardly spared him a glance before she resumed her pacing, Hermione’s hard drilled manners lost in her anger.

“Yes I must be, for if I were anyone else surely life would have been less of a curse.” She snapped out.

His light chuckle didn’t give her pause but it did ease her anger some. “You were here for an interview about the Defense Against the Dark Arts assistant position correct?”

“Yes and before you ask, no it did not go pleasantly. Honestly questioning my abilities because I’m… I’m young! Well you can tell him I can out duel him anytime!” Brea growled to Dumbledore.

“You seem to have really wanted the position. May I ask why it seemed so… important to you? I know you did not go to school here so I doubt it’s sentimental.”

Brea hesitated at his perceptiveness and immediately ensured her mental shields where intact before glancing over her shoulder, flashing amber eyes narrowed. His eyes were searching, piercing letting her know he would be able to tell her lie from the truth. Brea was honestly becoming exhausted from her constant world of lies so she went with as close to vague truth as she could.

“I’m… searching for… a way to keep those that I love safe. Ensuring their happiness.”

“And what does that have to do with this position?”

“To be honest I could have done any of the available assistant programs but defense… makes me feel alive, everything I know I have taught myself and I am brilliant at it. I need a position here but I wanted that one for myself.”

“And how will being the assistant to a professor keep those you care for from harm?”

“It will allow me access… access to their undoing and I will be able to stop it.”

“That is very intriguing. May I ask what… or who you seek?”

Brea smiled sadly, “I’m afraid that if you knew you would either aid me… or hinder my success. This is something my whole life has been coming toward. And now I’ve ruined it because I once more allowed my emotions to overcome my rationality. Back to the drawing board for me.”

At his moment groundskeeper Ogg made his approach with her thestral led carriage. With a slight incline of her head Brea left the future headmaster behind, telling herself not to give into pathetic tears until she was once more in her bare lonely tent.

After a good few hours of crying in self-pity and a well-deserved nap Brea decided conversation and firewhiskey was just what she needed before she came to another plan. Letting her hair fall back to its wild state over her back, her mascara smeared from her tears Brea left behind her robes and left for the Leaky Cauldron. Sitting heavily on the bar stool Brea let her head rest in her hands and Tom approached, before he could ask what she wanted she muttered “nothing but firewhiskey tonight.”

Tom hesitated as he took in the state of the miserable witch before him. “Are you alright?”

Brea let a hand slap on the bar top. “No I’m not Tom that’s why I require firewhiskey.”

Her waspish tone let him know she was not in her usual playful mode and he filled her request, setting down a bottle of firewhiskey and a small glass. “Enjoy.” He muttered before leaving to help another customer.

Brea’s first drink of firewhiskey nearly had her spitting the foul burning liquid back out but she swallowed angrily, covering her cough and pouring herself another. Nearly an hour had passed and Brea was well into her bottle. Her depression and loneliness obvious as she sat there at the bar alone. She had finally stopped drinking but now sat in silence, using her wand to shuffle objects from their proper spot whenever Tom wasn’t looking, erupting into quiet giggles hid behind her hand whenever he became confused. Brea finally felt wonderful, everything was light and blurry, her emotions eased and she felt dizzy happiness.

Brea took a childish spin on her stool, stopping abruptly as a wave of drunken dizziness overcame her senses. Downing her drink she rested her head on the bar with eyes closed. A flutter of wings eluded her hearing but the peck on the nose got her attention. “Wha! Hey you! No one pecks the Queen on the nose!” Brea slurred to the tawny owl before her. “What’s this you have hmm? A royal missive?” Brea opened the envelope addressed to herself.

_Dear Miss Rusé_   
_It is with great pleasure that I Headmaster Dippit, Headmaster of Hogwarts school of Wizardry, inform you of the decision to invite you as the new Assistant of Defense Against the Dark Arts, to assist Professor Merrythought in all tasks and duties included with such position. Please accept my congratulations and I look forward to the next school term as you enter the wonderful and exciting world of teaching. You will be provided a quarters in Hogwarts. You are expected at Hogwarts no later than September first._   
_With Pleasure-_   
_Headmaster Dippit._

Brea reread the letter multiple times before the words meaning seeped into her blurry mind. “I did it!” Brea cried in happy shock. Letting out a mad drunken laugh the witch spun on her stool resulting in her falling off with an “oof!” that didn’t stop her for longer than a moment though. Brea jumped up to the bar and poured herself one last drink, not caring about the stares and whispers. Holding her glass up and sloshing a bit of firewhiskey about Brea cleared her throat for a speech which turned out to not be a speech at all. “To the power of seven!” Brea gave a last whop and downed her last bit of firewhiskey. “I’m off Tom! Grand plans to… well plan!.”


	27. Life’s Greatest Lie

The first day of Brea’s Hogwarts experience in 1943 dawned typically cloudy with a threat of rain. A distinct lack of sunshine to which Brea had come to expect with this era. Even in the wizarding world the over shadow of war was thick in the air.

As she sat at the teachers table with a few of the other teachers Brea thought back to her arrival. Once she had recovered from her first ever hangover that is. An occurrence she never wished to replicate, she reminded herself with a cringe. Upon her arrival she had been greeted by Headmaster Dippit and Professor Merrythought, the later with a grim look and the former with a kind smile. Merry, as the long time Defense professor had insisted Brea call her, had shown Brea to her room which had a lovely portrait with two young children, a boy and a girl, swinging on a wooden swing tied to a great apple tree. Their clothing suggested they were from the Victorian era, with a frilly lace collar for the lass and a pristine white linen shirt with a black buttoned waist coat for the lad. Both the children’s faces had lit up in delight when Brea had made her first approach with Merry and their giggles were charming as she gave the password of “cherry blossoms”.

Her apartment had been nothing grand but it was clean and suited her comfort perfectly. A set of tall book shelves were placed on either side of a stone fireplace. Two high-backed chairs occupied the space before the flickering hearth and shared a table between them. A wardrobe stood handsomely carved next to a mirrored dresser. As with all the beds in Hogwarts this one was canopied and of the same size as her old one in Gryffindor Tower. A beautiful blue fabric covered any furnishings, as well as the rugs upon the floor. Marked with gold patterns and shapes, the rugs truly made the room comfortable.  
Now as Brea waited for the students of 1943 to arrive she forced herself to ignore the shadow of sadness that she would never again sleep in her own Gryffindor bed. It seemed fate had intervened before she could take her final Hogwarts Express ride. Brea knew she would never again giggle and whisper with Stacy and Rose until the early hours. Never again tease Torrin over his wild hair, share a laugh with the Marauders and Lily. Never find out how life would have been with Regulus. And in her heart Brea knew she would never be the same again. Never come back from taking a life.

Realizing how grim her thoughts were becoming Brea instead gave herself a mental shake and worked to keep her mind on the mission ahead and began to study each professor as they entered the Great Hall and slipped into their seat at the teachers table. She gave an appreciative nod to Dumbledore as she was certain he was the reason behind her even being there. His twinkling blue eyes as ever familiar and brought her comfort and a sense of knowing she wasn’t truly alone.

There was fantastically jovial Slughorn whom she sent a fond look and Merry a genuine smile. However besides Headmaster Dippit, those were the only four with whom she recognized and was able to mark off the list of possible a “Son of the False Merope”. Or the more familiar name, Voldemort.

As the hour grew later and more staff trickled in, Brea was sure to keep her mental shields up. She didn’t want any surprises from nosey intruders. As of yet she was unsure of the possibility that she was searching for a professor. Each seemed rather…. Well rather plain and mundane. While their ages varied from middle aged to quite elderly and all seemed to already be in need of the Christmas break. A couple Brea could see appeared to be resting their eyes, most held quiet conversations or sat quietly with a bored expression. Not at all what she figured an evil tyrannical mastermind would be like.

As at last the final slow moving professor took his seat, Brea glanced to the occupying professors to each side of her and shifted uncomfortably. Without a doubt she stood out from the rest as she was obviously quite young compared to the rest of the staff.

“I hope you know what you’re doing by sending me here Sisters…” Brea muttered under her breath.

Once Dumbledore left the Hall to see to the newly arrived first years, Brea straightened her shoulders nervously. Any moment the students would make their entrance and she would have to honestly consider the possibility of a student as the one she was sent back to… dispose of.

Brea attempted to hide her shiver at the thought of actually hunting a human life as students made their entry. The reality of such an action came with a bone chilling realization. For the past seven years she had always accepted that her fate was to face and kill Voldemort. A full grown and evil man. But now before her were hundreds of seemingly innocent faces, either full of eagerness for the next year of learning, or tired boredom.

As she had already dismissed the possibility of a professor someday taking the title of Dark Lord, Brea was hit with the fact that her enemy sat before her among the four houses waiting for the first years to enter and be sorted.

Brea couldn’t help dropping her gaze and sinking a bit in order to disappear. Suddenly she didn’t feel so brave or at all like a heroin. She now felt like a murder of children and despair entered her body coldly. Brea shivered and rubbed her arms through her robe. The cold normally didn’t bother her but suddenly she was no longer just cold on the outside but deep within as well.

Throughout the Hogwarts school song and the sorting of the first years Brea never once lifted her eyes and only moved to occasionally take a sip from her silver goblet. Even as Headmaster Dippit took to the podium for his announcements Brea firmly wallowed in her deep self-doubt.

Sure taking down such a beast as the basilisks was taking the life of another creature but that had been when she thought her battle would be with an adult! And she had had to fight with every strength she had in order to safe what she had thought to of been a little girl in grave danger. And her murderous feelings toward Lucius afterward had certainly been warranted for that bit of nasty deception on his part.  
Brea sighed and picked up her goblet for another sip as her ears picked up on a particularly shocking announcement from Dippit.

“….prefects will guide students to their house locations after the feast. Please allow me to introduce this year’s Head boy and Head girl as Tom Riddle and Minerva McGonagall. As always-“  
At this point Brea dropped her goblet in shock, her cider spilling across the table. ‘But of course!’ Brea thought in amazement as she suddenly took a good look at the students for the first time. ‘Why I had not realized this before!’ There before her and seated primly at the Gryffindor table, watching Brea blunder about with a napkin to clean her spill, was Minerva McGonagall.

Brea was sloppily attempting to fix her mess, face burning pink as she realized how ridiculous she must seem to the students when another thought hit her. Tom Riddle. Brea sat back in her seat as Merry set a hand on her arm before using her wand to clean the spill. Brea gave the older witch a bashful apology and ducked her head to hide from the eyes of snickering students and obviously annoyed professors.  
Once Merry had quickly set the table to rights Dippit, after one last hard stare at Brea continued with his speech “Eh hem. As always if there is an issue in which your house prefects are unable to-“  
Brea once again tuned out the old wizard, her thoughts ever more in a whirl than before. Not only was Minerva McGonagall here as Head girl but her counterpart Tom Riddle as well. Brea could hardly believe her luck! And a moment later her foolishness.

‘How bloody thick headed am I? Thicker than James Potter for sure!’ she thought in self derision. ‘How long have I been in this year and I’m just now realizing that this was McGonagall and Riddles seventh year? Hah! I didn’t even realize it! I had to be told!’ Brea was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she failed to notice the appearance of the feast before her. It was only when Merry touched her shoulder did she look up startled.

“Is everything alright Brea?” Merry asked in kindly concern for her assistant.

Brea swallowed nervously with a shaky smile. “Oh yes. Quite alright I am. Only a bit of the nerves.”

Merry gave a light chuckle. “Ah yes. I most certainly had my own case of ‘the nerves’ on my first day.” She nodded toward the students. “They can seem quite terrifying at times. But fear not as I am certain you will perform tremendously well.”

Brea was sure to give her brightest smile to show her appreciation for the great professor’s vote of confidence. “Thank you Merry. I feel almost as if I were born to do this.” As Merry turned back to her own food Brea felt the urge to cover up the awful aftertaste her last words had left in her mouth. Blinking back sad tears Brea at last watched the students before her. From the shy first years to the energetic seventh years, they were talking and laughing amongst their friends, passing dishes every which way, or looking through photos of their summer adventures.

To her relief none seemed to be paying any particular amount of attention to the clumsy witch, and Brea began to pick at a slice of roasted chicken. Her appetite had disappeared long before and had yet to return.

A slight pressure touched the edges of her mind and Brea struggled to mask her alertness. To hide her feelings Brea sat back with a warm bread roll and began to recite constellations to match defense stances, occasionally flicking her eyes around the large room as she took a bite off her roll. No one seemed to act suspiciously, even amongst those seated at the Slytherin table.

As she surreptitiously studied the Slytherin students Brea took notice of a small group of older boys bent close, one of which had striking Malfoy hair.

Brea rolled her eyes. “I’m cursed till the end of time.” She murmured then briefly wondered which one was Tom Riddle.

After a moment the light pressure left, the only remnant that she had been fighting a mental intrusion the slight headache which now weighed on her and Brea began to wonder if this feast would ever end. She couldn’t remember one lasting this long but then again she had never been this anxious for one to end. She was emotionally drained, now had a headache, and knew she would be up late only to have an early morning.

Brea sighed heavily once more and let her eyes drift back to the Slytherin table. It could reasonably be deducted that the future Dark Lord was indeed of Slytherin House. ‘I honestly doubt the heir of Slytherin would be a Hufflepuff.’ She thought as she studied the students garbed in green and black. There was of course the handsome yet arrogant father of Lucius, something Malfoy. Around him were wizards of various looks and hair color and she suspected one of them was his leader.

If Brea remembered correctly, Lucius hated his father for turning the great line of Malfoy into nothing but servants to their Dark Lord. Brea narrowed her eyes until she met eyes the color of piercing darkness.  
Brea’s eyes widened, and jumped slightly, startled to find someone staring at her. Brea didn’t give herself another moment to stare back as Dippit announced the release of the students to their houses. Brea shoved her chair back and walked quickly from the hall before most had even stood, not stopping until she stood safely within her room.

Running a shaky hand down her face Brea began to feel foolish. “How could I act like such a skittish rabbit… so someone happened to be looking toward me when I happened to look at them…?” Brea took a deep calming breath. “Nothing odd about that…”

\--Tom despised mysteries. The origins of his birth had been a mystery, and the resulting answer had left him feeling both disgusted and superior. Disgusted with the vile blood from his muggle father, disgusted with how far his mother had fallen below her great heritage…. All in the name of the world’s greatest lie. Love, adoration, infatuation... there were many names for it but for him they were lies. Lies of emotion used to control. The world’s oldest falsehood, bringing about centuries of war, pain, and destruction. Muggles and wizards alike were both slaved to the pathetic search for it and he was here to break them from its draw.

Everything about the sentiment bespoke of false hoods. His mother’s destructive obsession with his muggle father, leading to her abandonment of her only son. Even the gaudy displays men and women put on in order to attract a mate were lies and no different than wild animals.

Therefore when he had entered the Great Hall for his seventh and last year as a student, he had felt a shift. Something was different. The air had a faint sent of fresh ocean air, and the lights seemed brighter than they had in the years before.

He had for the moment assumed it was just the feeling of successfully being chosen as Head boy, despite Dumbledore’s fervent protestations he was quite sure.  
Moments after Tom had taken his usual seat in the middle of Slytherins table be briefly scanned the Hall until his dark eyed gaze had landed on a most peculiar sight. There seated beside Professor Merrythought was the most pathetic excuse for a human he had ever seen.

With hair lighter than even Malfoys and hanging in an unattractive mess of tangles, slumped shoulders, and an emotional expression. Tom’s next realization came with how young the girl looked. Could hardly be older than himself and yet she was seated with the professors? How preposterous!

Tom felt the dark anger in him flare to life and he diverted his attention his ring resting upon his middle finger on his right hand. Ah yes. The little gift from his father. Tom smiled cruelly and paid no more mind to shivering creature at the teachers table.

However his attention would not stray from her for long as it was just a short time later that he learned not only was she pathetic in appearance, but clumsy as well. He had watched with bored contempt as she fumbled along in an attempt to clean up her mess, firmly solidifying his opinion of her lack of right to be seated anywhere near him.

Curiosity began to get the best of him so as his Knights gossiped and ate, Tom allowed his mind to touch hers, full of confidence that he’d find out what makes this witch special enough to be here. To his astonishment however he found firm shields over her memories and emotions. All he could gather from her thoughts were constellations and… defense stances? Tom narrowed his flashing eyes, the need to shred her defenses down, to tear her apart, began to fill him but he was smart enough to realize to destroy her mind before so many would raise questions.

Fingering his ring unconsciously he pulled his assault away and instead settled on studying the witch from afar. He did notice she now seemed impatient to leave. Whether this was out of boredom, or because she knew someone had attempted to enter her mind, he could only guess. With some degree of interest however he noticed she had begun to study those around him at Slytherins table. The look of annoyance, a small sneer really, as she studied Abraxas was most curious.

Though the flash of emotion across her pale face as she met his eyes, however brief, was indeed the most peculiar part of the brief interaction. In that instant he recognized something in her. A darkness and despair at war with light and hope, deepening the mystery of this creature ever more and angering Tom. His flashing hate filled gaze followed her small form as she hurried from the Hall. She had something to hide and he would discover what it was.

\--“Alright then seventh years, welcome to Advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts. Before you is this year’s curriculum, as you glance over it you will find that we will spend a great deal of time with practical discussions and our books. But before we begin todays work it gives me no small amount of sadness to announce that you will be my final graduating class, and at the same time great pleasure to announce my replacement as Miss Brea Rusé.” Merrythought gestured for Brea to join her for the third time that day in order to introduce her to the students.

Until now Brea had managed to uphold her façade of a new teacher, it wasn’t as terribly difficult as she had feared, at least with the younger students. But now seated before her were students her age or even older, watching her every move. One of them was sure to be Tom Riddle and one was sure to be Voldemort. And finally there was young McGonagall seated with her peers. With her eyes as always missing nothing, shining bright with intelligence, and the proud tilt of her Gryffindor chin. Brea knew to impress her she would have to be better than she had ever been before. After a moment of watching the one day professor Brea picked up on a slight shift in the other witches attention. A brief glance… actually a brief annoyed glance toward a certain wizard.

Brea had painfully avoided looking at the wizard she had seen yesterday, yet this time noticing him immediately, and how stunningly attractive he was. With dark wavy hair, matching straight brows over hooded and equally dark eyes. High cheekbones gave accent to a serious yet not unpleasant pale face.

Brea began to grow curious on this uncharacteristic behavior McGonagall was exhibiting… was there a romance to be? This led to Brea, for a brief moment, to daydream. That is until a sneering comment washed over her and Brea instead rolled her eyes at Lucius’ cocky looking father, and his equally cocky looking friends. How Hermione ever managed to fall in love with a Malfoy she didn’t know. Brea felt a brief stab of sadness at the thought of her long lost friend, now even further apart than before, until she realized every set of eyes in the room were settled on her. Including Merrys.

Brea took a startled breath as she realized the entire class was waiting for her to say some words of welcome. In her earlier classes she had had no problem but now words suddenly failed her.

“Uh oh yes... yes. Let’s see, Professor Merrythought has spoken greatly on the talents of Hogwarts students. I err look forward to teaching you everything I know. Yes. There we are.” Brea stammered out awkwardly, pink coloring her cheeks.

“Shouldn’t you be with the first years?” a snide voice snickered. “Are you even a witch?”

Brea’s eyes flashed to none other than Malfoy and his friends purposely attempting poorly to hide their laughter.

“Mr. Malfoy-“ Merrythought began to scold but was stopped short as all who were laughing suddenly lost the ability to make more than frantic mumbles. Upon closer inspection where their lips should have been was nothing but smooth skin.

Tom who was now watching in avid interest felt the air shift. He could feel the anger swirl around the young witch, felt oddly drawn to the flash in her eyes. The coldness as she dealt with his foolish Knights.  
“You will find Malfoy I am quite the capable witch. I’ve dealt with pompous yet unsurprisingly dimwitted wizards like you for quite some time now. When we duel later in the weeks to come you ought to keep that in mind.” Brea finished her scold before releasing her spell and stepping back, staring firmly at the wizard as he touched his lips, assuring his self they were indeed in the correct place.

Merry and the other students were frozen in surprise that the clumsy awkward witch had put on such a display, particularly on someone they knew to have a nasty temper as Abraxas Malfoy.

Merry finally shook her self before speaking. “Yes um thank you Miss Rusé for the superior use of wordless magic. One of the many topics in which we will be discussing in great depth in the coming classes. Now shall we pull our advanced texts out and turn to chapter eleven?”

Brea spent the rest of class with clenched hands, reigning in her anger. And not just anger over Malfoy. Anger at herself for giving into her pride so easily once again. Unleashing it onto a student no less. Brea was quite certain she would get a scolding later on for her actions but well… the git had it coming.

The class at last released for lunch and Brea stood next to the door giving nods to the students as they passed through the door. Many of the students had a look of polite curiosity about them when they acknowledged their Professors new successor however there were a select few, with a hostile gleam in their eyes. Brea tried to suppress a shiver as she began to have little wonder on what sort of trouble she just brought down on herself.

“Ah Miss McGonagall please allow me to introduce you to Miss Rusé. Minerva is Gryffindor’s pride and joy! We can expect great things from her no doubt.” Merry introduced the two witches.  
Brea hid her star struck eyes behind a pleased smile and nodded kindly. “Very grand to meet you.”

“You as well.” Minerva replied, her tone already spoke of a strong woman with a great sense about her, and Brea watched her stride away.

“Now then this fellow here is Tom Riddle. Head boy and top of his class seven years running. Much too dear Minerva’s frustration no doubt,” Merry said with an amused tone.

Brea pulled her gaze to the wizard in excitement, a pleased ‘nice to meet you’ on her lips, only to be lost as before her was the wizard she had been drawn too repeatedly with his incredibly dark eyes, side parted unruly hair, and an intimidating height.

Her breath caught in her throat, as a sort of…. Power surrounded him, drawing her in. Brea felt unable to pull her gaze away, felt as if she never would even want to. That was until she felt the tendrils of another mind brushing hers, startling her and sending her scrambling to throw her defenses back into place. Brea began to feel a heavy sense of dread as she attempted to make excuses for the intrusion which she now suspected Tom Riddle was responsible for. ‘He is supposed to be a very talented wizard… perhaps he is simply curious… yes that must be it.’ Brea told herself.

Tom gave a slight bow, breaking the brief intrusive contact. “Impressive display earlier. However unorthodox it might have been. They have a… habit of behaving rather idiotic; allowing themselves to say whatever comes to mind with no thought for manners. I look forward very much indeed to learning from you.” Tom spoke in a darkly seductive voice.

Brea had to shake herself from her daze, and nodded somberly. “Yes well… I’m sure we will have many instructive conversations in the future Mr. Riddle.”

Tom gave a small yet charming smile, “Indeed we shall.” Then before waiting for an answer he left the classroom, his smile dropping at once to a blank expression. ‘That creature is hiding something… and I mean to discover it.’ He thought angrily and touched his ring.

\--Later in the Great Hall as Tom ate the distasteful meal from the castle elves, he listened to his Knights complain about the mysterious Miss Rusé.

“Can you believe the little bitch had the nerve to attack me? Me!” Malfoy cried out angrily, his fists clenched around a fork as he stabbed it with more force than necessary into a slice of roasted quail.

“She sure showed you up Malfoy.” Snickered Yaxely between gulps from his goblet.

Malfoy narrowed his gaze but before he could start an argument another voice spoke up.

“She sure is a looker. Never been more turned on than by the fire in that witches eyes.” The third wizard spoke with a lascivious look as he licked his lips, eyes on the witch in question as she ate her lunch slowly, appearing to be lost in thought.

Malfoy scoffed. “McNair you must be jesting…”

Rolan McNair shook his head, eyes hungry. “Not at all. A bitch like that? Shell make you fight for it. And you gents know… I like a good fight before I break em.”

Tom had been listening with half of his attention with his main focus on the object of McNair's desires but with an impulse he had no control over Tom intervened. “Gentlemen… where are your manners? This is our new professor and shouldn’t be harmed... that is until I myself have finished with her. I’m sure our young professor has much to teach.” While his tone was pleasant to an outsider, his followers knew better.

The startled and frightened gazes from his Knights gave him dark satisfaction as they dropped the subject immediately. ‘That is true power.’ He thought proudly.  
Feeling the weight of someone’s gaze he met those of Brea. He expected to see curiosity or even rapt adoration in her. Tom was no fool, he knew his power, intelligence, and even his looks made him attractive to the greatly weaker sex.

The foolish witches constantly attempted to gain his attention, claiming to love him. Stupid girls. Refusing to know they are lost in the worlds lie already. And he expected nothing different from this pathetic being.

Yet there was a calculating anticipation about her. Tom suspected that she wanted something from him and for once it wasn’t his affections. ‘What then does the mysterious creature want of me?’


	28. The Dark Heirloom

 

Upon Brea’s arrival to 1944 and her subsequent discovery of just exactly how her purpose was to be carried out, she never would have thought that she would lose sight of it. Lose sight of just how much pain and suffering she had to atone for. That was before she learned of Tom Riddle. Walking into Hogwarts completely unprepared for just how drawn to the young powerful wizard she would be.

Looking back it would have been in the best interest of the Seven Sisters to avoid being so mysterious in the matter of Tom Riddle.

In the short weeks that followed the students return to Hogwarts Brea and Tom felt a strange obsessiveness take over them. Each constantly watched the other whenever in the same vicinity, their actions mirroring the other. Brea would pretend to read a book at dinner and so would Tom.

Brea would follow his every movement during his class with her, hidden behind her wild mane of hair. Tom would follow hers with hooded dark eyes. Her only concern outside of her assistant duties was watching Tom Riddle, wondering what he secrets he held of the magic world. Meanwhile his concerns were of his plan to break into her mind.

The attention Brea lavished on Tim did not go unnoticed buy him. To any other male, her watchful gaze would be taken as romantic; however Tom was not a fool. He could see calculation and curiosity in her every expression.

Brea would watch as he conversed with students and teachers, his hands politely clasped behind his back and ever attentive. Her amber eyes monitored his every movement during the time he spent in Merry’s class, continually excelling and the apple of Merry’s eye.

The tension in McGonagall’s shoulders and the clench of her jaw every time Merry would complement Tom or reward him with house points, fed the romantic part of Brea. Rather than realizing that the future transfiguration professor was harboring true distaste of Tom, Brea chose to believe she harbored amorous feelings for him.

Brea’s obsession with Tom was not without its rewards. As she watched Tom in class she found he was indeed just as impressive as Hagrid- whom Brea had noticed to not be seen anywhere in the school- had led her to believe. His answers consistently and thoroughly correct. His wand work ever flawless. She found his intelligence addicting and wasn’t ashamed to admit to only herself that she had learned a small amount from him. For example a better way to hold ones wand while casting a more effective and long lasting protego.

The charm he had over the other students and teachers… was admirable. All but with McGonagall of course. Brea’s admiration of the young and strong willed Minerva McGonagall was only shadowed by her obsessiveness of Tom Riddle. Both were intelligent and clever and Brea secretly hopped the end of year duel would have them against each other. What a spectacular event she knew it would be.

Along with her admiration of Tom’s intellect and charm she found him attractive beyond imagining. Brea felt as if she should feel terrible, as if she where betraying Regulus, but no such thought bothered her. She surprisingly admitted that he was a striking figure. Perhaps the same height as Regulus whom had been a hand taller than herself, dark brown eyes which seemed to capture every detail and a way of holding his shoulders that spoke of superiority.

However Brea did not only harbor shallow admiration of Tom’s good looks. Not only did she want to pick apart Toms knowledge, she wanted to know where he wanted to go once he graduates. Who his favorite author is or if he still visits the cliff she knew he once went to with the orphanage. Brea began to feel very certain that Hagrid had been quite mistaken about Tom. Nothing she had seen of him led her to believe he was capable of torturing another human much less a student.

Brea’s eyes and thoughts ever on Tom caused her failure to notice those he seemed amiable with. Malfoy she butted heads with regularly enough, yet McNair she failed to see the twisted hunger as he watched her. She had briefly given some thought to his son, her torturer and the murderer of her friend. But that was another life it seems and now in this one there was Tom. Tom with his elegant had written essays, smooth velvet voice, and piercing dark eyes. Tom with his gracious attention and warm compliments to his professors. Tom and the way he held his wand with this thumb and middle finger, easily controlling the power from within.

Her blindness was ever frustrating the Seven Sisters and they held many arguments over the situation. Dissent was strong among them as they fought over Brea’s imminent failure and placed blame. A few, including her mother were determined to allow Brea to figure out her purpose on her own while others felt she should be sent a drastic message. A message that would leave no doubt that Brea was failing her destiny.

With Brea’s obsession growing in her, as did Toms with her. He felt with clear certinty the witch had another purpose. She was an atrocious teacher. Growing impatient when the others failed to grasp the advanced wand movements and incantations. She had an unattractive habit of rolling her eyes like a petulant child. He could feel the need she had to take over when Merryweather talked too long, or stopped a demonstration to take questions. He supposed she hid it well enough but he liked to think he could read her better than she knew.

Through some investigative tea time with Dippit he had learned of her background, interesting as it was. An orphaned traveler of sorts. His favorite part of the class came when Rusé would use a spell for an example. Her eyes would flash golden, and her hair would whirl around her like a madwoman.

He supposed it was the expression on her face every time she looked at him. As if she desperately whished for something from him. Toms pride however would not allow him to approach her. And why should he? Her surprising use of occlumency kept him from invading her mind so if the impertinent witch wanted something from him then it should be her who comes to him. Voldemort does not seek out those of pathetic means. How then was he to find out what she wanted of him?

From the corner of Toms mind came an idea. And the idea which turned into a grand plan on how to get the little witch to break her stubborn silence.

\--“Brea would you please deliver these vials to the greenhouse? I asked some time ago of Professor Dallyhorn for some of his special whispering rose plant food. I just received word that it’s at last ready. Be a dear please?” Merry asked of Brea one sunny morning on a late October weekend.

Brea looked up from the essay she was grading. A young third year wizard by the last name Dwimmer whom Brea had a soft spot for as he had just a bit too much curly red hair, just a few too many freckles and perhaps ears which stuck out a bit too far. A delightful Hufflepuff he was never afraid to ask questions no matter how silly it seemed and always clumsy. Despite how much she liked Dwimmer, his essay writing left something to be desired.

She had eagerly been rushing through the work, her goal to get outside. The side effect with working as a teacher rather than a student left very little time to enjoy the day outside. So when Merry made a request requiring Brea to leave the shadows of the castle, for the warm rays then Brea was ready to go at a moment’s notice.

“Of course Merry!” Brea replied happily as she stood from her seat and slung her trusty bag over her shoulder. Brea accepted the empty glass vials from Merry, putting them in her bag as she walked from the classroom.

“Oh and Brea?” Merry called after the young witch. When Brea paused and looked over in question Merry continued. “Do take your time and enjoy the fresh air dear.”

Brea gave Merry a warm smile and continued on with a spring in her step. It wasn’t a moment later than her thoughts wandered on their own to Tom Riddle. Curious on if he was spending the day outside with his friends, or hard at work in the library studying. ‘Hah he hardly needs to study. Brilliant is what he is.’ Brea thought.

Brea had rounded a corner only to be stopped abruptly. There in the shadows was McNair, leaning against a pillar with his arms crossed, a smirk on his lips. Brea gave a mental shiver at how similar he looked to his someday son. Dark blonde hair paired with hooded hazel eyes filled with a threatening presence. He might have been attractive if it weren’t for the cruel tilt of his smile.

Brea didn’t give pause, simply a nod of acknowledgment as she moved past. Her progress was stopped however when McNair wrapped his thick fingers around her arm, halting her. Brea quickly looked from his tightly gripping hand up to his face, which he leaned toward her.

“Now Miss Rusé how about a stroll?” He said in a dry voice, obviously not wanting to hear her denial.

Brea stiffened her spine and fought for a cool and collected voice. “You must excuse me Mr. McNair. I have an errand I must run.”

“Wrong answer.” The student growled as he pulled Brea to his chest. “You and me, we’re going to have a stroll to a nice place and have some good quality alone time. You got that mud blood?”

Brea began to push away in an attempt to reach her wand, disgust coiling within her. “What do you mean mud blood? My family is from-“

“There’s no such magical family from France as Rusé you little bitch.” McNair sneered and dragged Brea behind him down a narrow corridor before turning back to Brea. “Now where were- oof!” McNair gasped as he stumbled back into the wall behind him, hands cupping his offended appendage. He had no time to prepare for Brea grasping her wand and jabbing it painfully beneath his chin.

“One more word and you won’t survive. Do you understand?” Brea whispered fiercely, her face so close she could feel his breath wheezing out, making her sick. Before he could agree or disagree, the light of a spell hit McNair, knocking him sideways from her grip and to the floor.

Brea quickly turned to look for the assailant, gasping in shock. “Tom!” Brea exclaimed.

Tom Riddle stepped into the narrow space, a look of concern on his handsome face. “Are you alright Miss Rusé?”

Brea attempted to hide her shock, pushing her hair back from her face. Leaning back against the wall to steady her adrenalin weakened knees she looked toward McNair, still withering in pain.

“You shouldn’t have done that. I had the worm well in hand.” Brea bit out.

Tom tried to hide his annoyance at her reprimand. The girl should be falling at his feet in thanks for saving her. Granted he waited a moment too long as she had already taken the matter into her own hands interestingly enough. Not a damsel in distress then.

“Apologies. From down the hall I caught sight of McNair accosting you. I am familiar with his… habits and thought it best I should interfere. Appears as if I was not needed. Good day then Miss Rusé.” Tom replied matter-a-factly with a stiff nod and turned to leave.

Brea felt a pang of guilt and sighed, following Tom from the shadows. “It’s quite alright. I suppose I am unused to those with a sense of chivalry.”

Tom stilled, a sly smile briefly marked his face before smoothing into one of polite concern. Looking over his shoulder, his eyes wide and innocent he waited for Brea to stop at his side. “Perhaps you could make it up to me? I am very curious about your opinion on the usefulness of potions in battle.”

Brea hesitated briefly. ‘I honestly don’t have an opinion on the subject…’ Brea thought ‘However this could be my chance to get to know Tom… what he knows.’

“I happen to be on my way to the greenhouses. You are welcome to join me… a rare day of perfect sunshine to make it pleasant.”

Tom inclined his head with a pleased smile. “Of course.”

Brea returned his smile and the two walked at a slow pace. While waiting for Tom to begin his desired topic Brea actually felt as if the silence was companionable, and not at all awkward. It should almost be absurd at how comfortable she felt around Tom, an allegedly dangerous Dark Arts practitioner. Besides his intelligence and excellence in all he did, nothing at all seemed dangerous about him. Even after that display of student on student spell casting, he seemed… innocently concerned for her wellbeing and not malicious at all!

Tom however was feeling anything but peace as he unconsciously kept his strides slow and short, to keep with Brea’s own. The familiar sent of the ocean surrounded him as she walked close to his side. ‘Why is she silent?’ he thought angrily. Tom wanted to push into her mind, rip her defenses apart. But as he glanced at the shorter witch he felt an instinct that maybe he could get more without the fight. And perhaps that she could be useful.

Brea looked up with a peculiar content smile at Tom before looking forward once more. Tom narrowed his dark eyes and shoved his hands in his slack pockets.

“May I have your opinion Miss Rusé?” Tom finally asked on the matter.

“Please you must call me Brea.”

Tom for once hesitated in surprise at being granted to use of her first name. Such familiarity with Professors or even their assisstants was uncommon.

“If you insist… Brea.” The name felt thick in his mouth and he hoped he would not be forced to use it repeatedly.

“Fabulous Tom. Now as for my opinion on the use of potions in battle was it? Yes let’s see. I suppose healing potions would be of great benefit in a heated altercation. Particularly ones to treat the nastier curses. However I don’t see the practicality in carrying dozens of vials and potion bottles when one can much simply be well educated in the use of healing spells. Now if you want to get very creative you could always concoct a potion to aid in escape or perhaps hindering your opponent, yet again knowing a well-timed spell would do just as well. I suppose it would depend on the situation. Have I lost my wand? Has my opponent lost theirs? Are we indoors or out and what is the weather like? Am I honestly meaning to injure them and them to me? What do you think Tom?”

Tom had at first felt a livid anger that she once again used his first name without permission but amazingly it melted away as the little witch rambled on continuously on the subject in which he honestly had no interest, he had simply wanted to get her talking. Now he began to regret his action as it seemed she never stops once she starts.

“Tom?”

He looked down, hiding perfectly at how much she had startled him from his thoughts.

“I find I quite agree.” Tom said with more enthusiasm than he felt and hoped his answer was pleasing. When her smile brightened Tom actually felt a small bit of relief to which he quickly crumpled with a wave of cold anger.

“If I may ask Miss- hmm excuse me… Brea,” Tom charmingly corrected himself with a small smile and slight nod toward Brea. “However did you become interested in defending against the Dark Arts?” Tom asked his question with an innocent air as the pair arrived at the greenhouses.

Brea flicked her gaze toward Tom before setting his question aside for the moment in order to fulfill Merrys errand and gather her thoughts. Tom was quite the gentlemanly wizard and Brea found to be enjoying his company no small amount. Almost too much Brea felt with some brief guilt towards her memories of Regulus.

Brea failed to see Toms eyes flash red as she ignored his question and by the time she had concluded her business and small talk Tom had his emotions once again under control. He had noticed since he had taken… measures to ensure his immortality, keeping his true self behind firm walls was becoming more of a challenge.

Brea led Tom away from the greenhouses, silent until she found a suitable place to sit on the lawn; her long skirt tucked under and motioned for Tom to join her.

Brea wondered which answer she should give the wizard. The truth? Or perhaps something dramatic? No… Brea needed to use this to her advantage. Play upon the rumor that Tom Riddle knew about true Dark Magic.

Leaning back on her hands Brea looked to Tom who was sitting stiffly, his demeanor one obviously of a man who did not find sitting in the grass proper. A half smile flit across Brea’s lips before turning serious.

“I have a great….curiosity- no a great thirst to know more of the Dark Arts.” Brea held her breath but when no reaction came from Tom Brea continued. “I am more than capable at defending against it but once… in Germany… I know there is nothing more thrilling. And I hear Hogwarts is legendary in its knowledge of everything”

Tom arrogantly told himself that he knew it all along. That this is what made her stand out. He secretly couldn’t be more pleased. The thought of recruiting a female into his Knights did leave a bad taste in his mouth but Tom was sure she could still be of use. But it was too soon. Tom didn’t trust her. Would never trust her he knew.

“What about you Tom? You are quite an excellent student at defending against the Dark Arts.”

Tom stared at the line of trees of the Forbidden Forest, eyes narrowed and hands tightened slightly as he touched his ring. In the next moment Tom sent Brea a charming smile. “I have aspirations to become Headmaster of Hogwarts. Beginning with Professor of Defense of Dark Arts. I am afraid, Miss Rusé you will have competition for your position soon.”

Brea gave a quiet laugh and shook her head. “Not to worry dearest Tom. I shan’t be here long I believe.”

Tom couldn’t stop the look of surprise he sent her way. If he was honest he had not expected her reply and couldn’t help the curious “Oh?”

Brea leaned back on her hands and squinted at the lowering sun. “Sure. I came here for something but you see that sun? His light touches so many wonderful and magical places. And I’m begining to learn that I’m not meant to have a true home. So I’ll follow him into the west once I’ve learned all I can learn.” Brea replied softly. Coming to this revelation as she spoke it for the first time Brea realized it was true.

Tom harbored irritated thoughts on this turn of events. If he was to use her for his purposes he would need to find a way to control her. Eyes hidden as they flashed red Tom determined the easiest way to control a female was through their emotions. A sly smile pressed his lips together.

“Brea I fear I have taken too much of your time. I’m sure you have many things to accomplish on your agenda.” Tom said as he stood and after a moment’s pause held his hand down to help Brea stand.

Brea hid her disappointment behind a serene smile and slipped her hand into Tom’s cool one. For a brief moment she felt suffocating darkness and her eyes lock on Toms as they flashed red. In that moment Brea knew.

Every moment involving Tom, every word that Hagrid had spoken, every whispered word of his friends flashed through Brea’s darkened mind and she knew. Knew that Tom Riddle would one day be known as Voldemort and destroy the happiness and lives of so many.

She would never know how close she came to losing control of herself in that moment. Her first reaction was to go for her wand and curse him in that moment. At the same time Brea fought to keep her smile serene and her hand welcoming as she held his, her eyes clear of hatred and instead warm. But as Tom held her hand in his she watched as if time had slowed and he lifted her pale hand to his lips in a charming kiss.

Brea however felt nothing but the chill of a blizzard inside instead of the girlish warmth of such a charming display of affection. However instead of watching his eyes betray his true feelings Brea’s own were locked on the ring on his middle finger. Brea could almost see the suffocating dark tendrils of evil and hatred reaching toward her, hear the awful acts it wanted her to do in its name.

Brea kept her voice pleasant as she gently pulled her hand from Toms grasp and met his gaze. With a breath of courage she nodded towards Toms ring. “That is a beautiful ring. It looks quite old.”

Tom briefly touched the black stone, immediately suspicious of Brea’s interest. “Yes, a family heirloom of mine.” Came his abrupt answer.

Brea however knew all she needed to know just from those words. Her desire to get away from Tom- no Riddle as she was now determined to think of him became over powering but she kept her actions in check. Leaving no room for Riddle to wonder Brea gave a polite nod. “I want to thank you… Tom… for your assistance earlier with McNair and for your stimulating company.” Brea threw in a pleasant laugh for effect. “I’m afraid I can get quite bored with conversing with the professors as they are all much older than me and with the students… well it’s all about grades with them. You were very…. refreshing. I welcome you to rescue me from boredom at every chance you get.”

Tom had a difficult time discerning whether she was genuine or a spectacular actress. He would not know for quite some time that Brea was pulling from the experience of living a lie for eight years to get her through those last moments in his company. As he watched Brea walk off toward the castle Tom began to mentally compile ideas on how to seduce the witch further into the dark arts. He wanted the need for power to consume her to the point where he was the only solution.

\--Once Brea delivered the vials to Merry she dismissed herself and immediately locked herself within her chamber, purposely keeping the rooms devoid of light. Where she was emotionally at this moment there was no room for light.

This was it. Every moment of her life, every second of hell and happiness had led her to this. To finding the one responsible for all the terrible atrocities her friends and family experienced. The death and sadness they had tried to hide from her but had somehow caught up to her anyways. The murder of her dear friends one by one once more fresh in her mind.

And she knew what she had to do. As Brea sat on the stone floor before the cold fireplace she went through what she had memorized about the horcruxes Tom- no Voldemort would create. Harry had not given much back story on the items but Brea knew enough. First came his diary, and second his ring. Brea was unsure about the locket but was clever enough to suspect that it would be reckless for a young Voldemort to create so many of the horrendous items while still in school. Leaving her with the realization that she would have to find and destroy the diary without Riddles knowledge before somehow acquiring the ring which sat elegantly on his finger. Even then with the diary and ring destroyed she would need to stop him. And soon.

Brea clenched her hands as she felt a sense of betrayal. She had truly enjoyed Riddles company. He had been courteous and beautiful. While he didn’t have the teasing kindness of Regulus, he had the air of maturity, of a man wise beyond his years, and could see the world for what she was. But now Brea was full of suspicion and anger. How much of his display had been an act? And did he suspect anything of her? McNair had said that he knew there was no pureblood family by the name of Rusé but then again it was rather arrogant of him to believe he knew the name of every pureblood in England and on the continent.

Brea huffed and lay back on the cold stones. Believing herself to of been a fool. To so easily have kind feelings for someone so evil, whether they were romantic or not, Brea began to doubt her judge in character.

A drawn out sigh escaped the reeling witch. She needed a plan.


	29. Tom Riddle’s Soul

 

 

It had been nearly three weeks since her enlightenment with Tom Riddle, pushing nearer towards December. And life had been a strain ever since. Brea now realized that it had been Riddle who had attempted to infiltrate her mind that first day of arrival. This knowledge meant Brea had to be even more vigilant of her defenses, leaving her with splitting headaches and dark circles underneath her eyes.

Besides attempting to keep the future mass murder out of her mind the young witch was constantly drawing up a plan to get her hands on Riddles diary only to scrap the idea moments later and start anew. This led to weeks of frustration all while keeping with the façade of an energetic professors assistant. And a secret aquantiance of Tom Riddle.

Brea made every effort to avoid the wizard without making it seem obvious. Much more difficult to accomplish when the one you are trying to avoid seems to notice every detail. And for some reason he seemed to be making every effort to interact with her.

Offering to escort her to her chambers after dinner, commenting during class when Brea held a demonstration, cornering her in the library as she searched for materials at Merrys request. And frankly Brea was entirely suspicious of him. Yet it was becoming more and more difficult to hold onto these paranoid feelings the more time she spent in his company.

Riddles manners were always welcoming and polite. His conversation consistently stimulating and he never failed to ask about how her work was coming along. Despite her efforts to remain detached Brea felt the need for friendship. To escape the loneliness of being… being her, and all that entailed. As certain as she was that opening herself up to Tom would be catastrophic she couldn’t seem to stop her desire to be accepted.

The more she was around him the more she seemed to forget who he truly was. As the days turned into weeks it became easier to smile at Tom. Not whole smiles. No she knew she would never smile like she did when she had had her family. Before learning who Tom was. Perhaps if their fates were different then she felt that maybe Tom Riddle would have been a great friend.

It was through these subconscious thoughts that she began to tease him, to try and draw a genuine smile from his lips. Fancy a small hidden notion that if she could find the strength inside herself to attempt the impossible. To change the nightmare that was their fates. Save Tom Riddle. Save her from destroying another life.

\--Brea lightly bumped her shoulder into Tom’s arm as they strolled through the courtyard after dinner in the Great Hall. A cheeky grin in place as she waited for him to look her way.

When Tom only straightened his robe sleeves Brea repeated the action with a bit more force at last achieving her desired effect. Tom sighed and hid a very un-Dark Lord like roll of his eyes as he looked down at Brea. The effect was more of the average teenager and less like an emotionless man.

“Why do you insist on bruising me? Am I being punished?”

Brea’s smile widened and she skipped ahead and spun to face the irritated wizard. “A little birdie told me something quite scandalous.”

Tom stopped walking and narrowed his eyes. “I didn’t take you as a rumor monger Rusé.”

Unperturbed by his surly comment Brea only shrugged and raised her eyebrows.

This time Tom rolled his eyes in annoyance to where Brea could see. His plan to win the girl over to his cause seemed to be progressing, yet not without some temporary changes on his part. He found she responded more to playfulness and warmth than she did when the conversations were serious and intense. This left him playing the role of kindly friend rather than prospective suitor, leaving Tom confused on what the witch felt towards him.

Over the past three weeks he had become accustomed to listening to her tirades over the idiocy of certain students, particularly McNair and Malfoy, gossiping over which students were fancying the other, and the delights of Dippet allowing his female staff to wear heels. Made her feel taller she claimed. She even went on about who her favorite student was. Some Hufflepuff named Dwemmer.

Tom wasn’t quite sure what to think of his new role as her apparent… friend but he was certain he was close to introducing her to his cause. So with this in mind he indulged Brea with her need to be companionable. Anticipation for when he could smother her kindness towards others burned inside him.

“Alright, I give in. I had hoped to discuss your advanced curriculum for teaching on your own next year. But I see we will be discussing whatever tedious rumor you’ve come across. What new rumor has reared its terrible head and captured my dears fancy?”

Brea smiled in triumph and stepped closer in order to be heard as she whispered. “A certain wizard, whom shall remain nameless-“Brea looked at Tom pointedly leaving no doubt that he was to be the wizard in question. “Was seen slipping a very secret message to the great beauty that is Minerva McGonagall during Ancient Runes.” Brea finished with her gaze knowing as Tom was actually left speechless.

This only lasted a moment before Tom huffed out a sarcastic laugh and shook his head. “That was not a secret message encoded with vows of love, if that’s what you’re thinking in that ridiculous head of yours.”

“Ah but there was a message! Tom you dodger I didn’t know you had it in you! Wooing someone as formidable as Minerva. Good to see you are up to the challenge.”

Tom couldn’t help what happened next as the idea was insanely ridiculous. He tried to hide a small smile as he pushed past the ridiculous witch who had a wide grin of triumph. For the rest of their walk he ignored her questions as to how long he has been in love with the Gryffindor until he at last pushed her through her portrait hole, finally finding peace and wondering how he had lost control over the situation.

For Brea she was on cloud nine. The sight of Tom’s smile had given her a spring of hope. Perhaps he could be saved as well. This led to a change in everything. The relief that maybe she wouldn’t have to end someone’s life gripped Brea tight and refused to let go. This led to a new plan at last.

Destroy the diary, destroy the ring, and show Tom he didn’t need immortality to be great. Show him the world and that he wasn’t alone.

\--‘All right Fox… you can do this. Lying is what you’re good at. Back straight, chin up, and try not to look as if you are plotting the murder of a student.’ Brea chanted to herself as she slowly approached the doors leading to the potions class.

Coming up with this scheme was very incredibly immensely risky but Brea new she had to do it. A bit of recon work before infiltrating Tom’s dorm to steal his first horcrux. The plan was simple enough. In her oftentimes delusional mind at least it was. But now as she watched the dusty old door come ever closer Brea began to have doubts. Sure acquiring a bit of polyjuice potion would be easy enough and even snagging a strand of Malfoy hair was simple. Timing her intrusion to when the Slytherin common room would be empty was going to be a challenge.

As Brea prepared to open the potions door she steadied her breath and entered. There was no going back now.

\--If anyone were to ask Brea for a step by step as to how she now came to be safely hidden within the Room of Requirement, Tom Riddles horcrux diary on the table before her, she would say it was all a fantastic blur, filled with anxious adrenalin and shaking hands. A frantic race against time from the moment she pilfered a vial of polyjuice potion from Slughorns stores. The long pale blonde hair she discretely picked from Malfoys robes as she monitored the class. Leaving the classroom under the guise of an errand for Merry. Drinking the awful potion and transforming into the obnoxious Abraxous Malfoy. Quickly slipping into the Slytherin common room, and effectively sneering at anyone who looked her way, before casually entering room after room before she found the one the seventh year boys used. The Malfoy family crest on the wall beside the Slytherin crest was the clue. Much simpler was determining Tom’s area as it was unsurprisingly the only meticulous spot in the dorm room as it seemed his house mates were quite disastrous in keeping with cleanliness.

The search for the horcrux didn’t take long as when she neared it she felt the evil pulling at her just as the ring had. Brea briefly wondered if she had found the diadem in the Room of Requirement then if she would have felt the rings darkness sooner. Its familiarity was unforgettable. When she felt the edges of Toms darkened soul reach for hers, Brea shuddered. Feeling hope, and light grow smaller.

With the diary in hand Brea quickly transfigured a worn copy of Huckleberry Finn into an identical replica and placed it exactly as the other had been found in the bottom of Toms trunk. And not a moment too soon as she had begun to feel the effects of the polyjuice potion wear off. With her Malfoy shoulders held back arrogantly Brea made a hasty exit and ran for the Room, avoiding others when possible and only pausing to hide in an alcove while she finished turning her appearance back into herself.

Now with Toms horcrux nearly at an end Brea took a moment to stare at it in wonder. Wonder in herself for the first time in ages and ages. She had accomplished something in which if it had gone wrong in any way at all she could have been dismissed, thrown in Azkaban and never seen the light of day again. Or if it had been Tom that had discovered her then she wondered if their barely fledgling friendship would have been enough to keep her alive.

Brea didn’t dare open the diary, uncertain as she was as to what would happen. Instead she withdrew the Gryffindor sword from her endless bag and held the blade above the horcrux, her arms rose up high and her amber eyes darkened wide. After only waiting for a short moment Brea inhaled a deep breath and plunged the sword downward, piercing the black leather cover, refusing to look away as the table began to shake and a screeching roar filled the room. Blackness poured from the diary and still Brea pressed the sword downward with all her strength, driving the blade in as far as she could.

Only after the roar faded along with the heavy pull of evil did Brea sit back with a shuddering breath. A sense of relief filled her as she realized even more wholly than before. She had done it. Succeeded and without the cruel help from Lucius. No one was hurt.

Brea felt a sense of emotional lightness in her as she finally felt that perhaps she was ready for this. Perhaps this was a task in which she could see through to the end. But if she did then she would do it her way.

\--Brea’s quest to acquire the horcrux ring was proving much more difficult than the diary mainly because Tom and the ring were never separated. Brea knew that the only way to get between Tom and his ring was to get closer to him. And as they already spoke to each other even if for a moment every day Brea knew she would need to do something drastic to get even closer to the wizard.

This led to Brea bringing out her books on practicing the Dark Arts that Lucius had demanded she study a life time ago. Her plan for drawing Tom in further meant she would need to actually practice the dark magic. And this meant she would need to practice somewhere where Tom would discover her.

Preparing for this role meant pushing Tom away, acting shady and drawing his curiosity. So for the next week Brea avoided Tom like the plague, taking meals in her chambers, and never giving more than a brief hello as they passed. And just as she hopped she had Tom’s suspicious attention. He began to watch her closely, monitoring every movement and conversation as he could. He even had his Knights follow her but they always seemed to lose her around the old clock tower.

\--An early December night, Brea escaped from the castle, certain that one of Tom’s followers would be following her. A brief smile on her lips at the thought before she again grew serious. She made her way down to the garden she had found in another far away time, ignoring the cold but wondering when the first snowfall would come. Once she slipped into the warm garden Brea quickly got to work, tossing her cloak to the side and setting her bag on the ground.

Brea sat on her knees upon the soft grass, closed her eyes and began a chant she had read in one of the dark magic tomes. Clearing her mind of the heavy breathing from whichever of Tom’s hiding wizards that had followed her this time.

_“_ _Tenebrae circumdant me, ut et tuere me de cunctis malis, haec est mea, quam ut Fiat semper_ _.”_ Brea released took a deep breath and held it for three counts, just as the book instructed before releasing it slowly and repeated.

After the fourth time repeating the chant, Brea at last felt the fringes of a burning sensation overcome her mind before a distinct heaviness weighed on her shoulders. Brea likened the feeling to a dark blanket settling on her.

Brea allowed her chant to end and she opened her eyes, filled with satisfaction of her success, both in her success of using dark magic and allowing her unknown stalker a little glimpse.

 

 

\--Hours later Tom sat facing a large fire in the Slytherin common room. The richly elaborate high back chair that no one else dared to sit in, dominating the room. He sat with his back straight and eyes locked on the fire with a calculating smile as Yaxley bent close to his master’s ear, quickly recounting the events of the night.

\--The following morning Brea walked at a brisk pace through the castle halls, making her way toward the Great Hall, wondering when Tom would make his move. Hoping that she wouldn’t have to wait long as she felt nervous energy mixed with the dark energy she had summoned surrounding her, making her nauseous.

Fortunately for her frayed nerves Brea did not have to wait long.

As Brea was reaching the Great Hall entrance, Tom, followed by Malfoy and Yaxley, were walking down the stairs. The sight of Tom followed by the two wizards, their heads held tall as their school robes billowed at their stride, was grandly imposing. Brea was not the only one that was given pause to watch the intimidating trio as other students cleared a path for them.

Brea suppressed a shiver as she noted the intense look in Tom’s eyes which were locked onto her and she knew with certainty that whomever he had follower had indeed reported her activities from the previous night. Brea swallowed her nervous anticipation and held her shoulders firm as she waited for the three wizards to meet her in the hall.

“Good morning Brea.” Tom said politely as he came to a stop an arm’s length away from the witch.

Brea kept her eyes focused on Tom. “Good morning to you as well Tom. I trust your evening was splendid?”

Tom clasped his hands behind his back as he kept his knowing look to himself. “Indeed it was quite a night.”

Brea kept her smile polite. “It was very good.” After a hesitant pause Brea looked at each of the other wizards present.

“Of course I hope you two used your time to catch up on your studies…” Brea trailed off as at that moment the post arrived with a flurry of owls. Normally Brea wouldn’t have paid any mind to the early morning ritual only this time she noticed the three wizards intently watching the event. Brea followed their gaze and she watched as a dark red owl landed before Professor Dumbledore.

The aging wizard quickly untied the post from the owl’s leg, fed the creature a biscuit, and departed from the Hall without touching his breakfast. Brea herself found the event very curious but instead of mentioning anything she kept her thought to herself and looked back to Malfoy and Yaxley, still waiting for their reply.

Before either she or they could say anything Tom spoke up, his voice quiet but firm. “Malfoy, I want to know what was in that missive to the professor.” And without question Abraxas Malfoy nodded once and stalked off in the direction Dumbledore had taken.

Brea’s amazed eyes followed him. “How in the name of the constellations did you do that tom? Not only is he willing to break into the office of a powerful wizard, a Professor now less, but he will miss out on his breakfast…” as Brea trailed off realization hit her. This was her moment. Tom was exercising his power over others in view of her. Tom was making his move and Brea only hoped she was ready.

Turning her impressed gaze back to Tom she whispered in a desperate voice, “How did you _do_ that?”

Tom stepped closer to her and leaned in to whisper in a dangerously pleased tone and a glint in his dark eyes, “Well Brea… I’ll show you.”


	30. In For Good

 

 

Brea’s life had become a dizzying blur of dark nights spent in the abandoned pits of Hogwarts, and days spent in burning anticipation of when class would at last be over and she and Tom could disappear together.

In the days following her first taste of dark magic in the garden, Brea had lost a part of herself. Every free moment was spent with Tom in the darkest reaches of the castle dungeons in rooms no one but himself had dared to enter in decade’s maybe even centuries.

And it was within these dark rooms that Brea was brought further and further into the grasp of the Dark Arts. She had claimed to have a desire to know more about the forbidden magic and Tom gave her lesson after lesson. Just as she had wanted in the beginning only it was so much more than she had ever thought it would be.

Learning the Dark Arts did come with sacrifices. The comradery which Brea had worked to build with Tom had faded away. Their dynamic changed drastically from enjoying the others conversation to strictly Tom as the instructor.

She did still consider destroying Tom’s horcrux ring but only when she was hidden safely in her chambers. Brea often felt Tom scratching at the edges of her mind, and she knew now more than ever she needed to keep her secrets safe. Tom could be saved still.

\--The number one rule of controlling the Dark Arts according to Tom was you had to want it.

“The power already wants you; you just have to give in. Find that one thing that fills you with darkness. Consumes you. And use it.” Tom whispered into Brea’s ear as he stood behind her.

Brea had her gaze locked on the trembling rat and lifted her wand. Hesitant at first yet Brea couldn’t stop the inflow of memories of the yet to be born McNair. How he had tortured her for years. How he had tortured her friends. Remembering the way his hands felt as they tangled in her hair. His sickening sneer full of prideful loathing.

A moment later there was no longer an innocent rat cowering before her but a taunting McNair and with an instinctive growl Brea unleashed her curse.

“ _Crucio!”_

Rather than shrieks of an animal in pain, Brea instead heard the pathetic cries of her tormentor, his body wracked with immense pain. And it felt good. A bit of well-deserved revenge.

“Excellent.” Tom whispered and Brea warmed with the praise. That is until she released the spell and realized just what she had done. McNair was no longer there and Brea realized he never had been. She had just tortured an innocent creature. And deep down the brief power she had held over its life pulled at her and Brea felt sick.

Brea turned slowly to face Tom, a cold smile placed perfectly to match his own. Even as he encouraged her to torture various creatures, spoke passionately about purifying the wizarding world, Brea in her dark arts haze, believed she could save him still.

And the Seven Sisters despaired.

 

\--“If I might ask Brea dear what are your Christmas plans?” Merry asked of Brea during a mid-Decembers dinner.

Brea paused with her chalice of apple cider in midair, surprised by the question. When her pause didn’t produce an answer Merry leaned forward and spoke lowly.

“I didn’t mean to intrude on your privacy, it’s just…. Well you have been so pale as of late…”

Brea looked to her colleague quickly but had to turn her eyes back to her chalice as she set it down, unable to handle the concern in Merry’s eyes.

“I... I... well…” Brea honestly didn’t know what she would be doing this holiday. To be honest she had quite forgotten. That’s what Tom’s presence did to you. So overpowering it caused you to forget about the passing days and many people that were important to you. All that mattered was _him._

“Naturally Vlad Carver will be attending. Only the best of the best are coming to my Christmas Party yeh know…” Brea heard Professor Slughorn boast from several seats down the teachers table, his own chalice held high with one hand.

Merry leaned forward in her chair to speak to Horace Slughorn. “Why then Professor Slughorn you simply must invite our young Assistant Brea here.” She said in her kindest voice.

If possible Brea’s stricken face paled even more while Horace opened and closed his mouth, unsure on how to respond. Their silence allowed Merry to continue.

“She is after all to be the youngest Defense against the Dark Arts professor in a century, can’t undertake such a daunting task with no small amount of talent, if I may say so.” Merry gave a matter of fact nod.

Before Brea could begin to give her denial, Slughorn’s befuddlement cleared and a look that was one part sly and one part pleased nodded his head in agreement. “Why of course! Of course she must come. You hear that Assistant Rusé? We simply cannot have this party without you! Another young lady for the lads to dance with is always welcome.”

Brea closed her dropped jaw as the first bit of color in weeks filled her cheeks. Giving her kindest smile Brea cleared her throat, preparing to give her decline, as she was simply not in the festive spirit this year. A strange and upsetting feeling if she let herself think on it for it was her favorite season. However Slughorns parties held many memories for her. Painful memories that she was becoming increasingly accomplished at locking away. Then before the cringing witch could begin her gracious denial she caught the eyes of Merry.

Merry had the expression of a grandmother who was worried; gazing upon someone she cared about, that she knew was slipping away like a golden autumn leaf down a snowy winter river. Brea shook off her dreary thoughts and straightened her shoulders, a gracious smile towards the graying potions professor and gave a slight nod.

“I would be honored Professor Slughorn to attend such an esteemed event. I have heard many wonderful things about them.” Brea said quietly.

Slughorn sat back and clapped his free hand on the table, a wide pleased smile. “Jolly! Now then where was I? Ah yes Carver!”

Brea let out a loud breath as she slumped back in her seat, allowing Slughorns animated voice to drone on in the distance.

“I’m sorry dear girl, I can see by the look in your eyes that you didn’t wish to go…. But you deserve a bit of time being young.”

Brea looked up as Merry continued her explanation. “You spend day in and day out with us stuffy old professors, I’m afraid you’ll turn into one of us before your time! So I thought… well perhaps an evening in a nice dress, with your hair fixed up, and dancing with the young fellows might be just what you need to brighten you up.” Merry smiled softly. “I hope I didn’t give offense…”

Brea shook her head, tamping down the dark art fueled flash of anger, “it’s quite alright. It has been sometime since I… danced a bit.” Feelings of shame filled her as she remembered the last time she danced. Remembered how horribly she had used Remus in order to make Regulus jealous. Though she had later repaired their relationship somewhat, Brea still found it difficult a difficult memory.

“Have you dress robes to wear?” Merry inquired.

Brea knew she had her party dress from fifth year but thought that would hardly be appropriate for an era three decades before. “I suppose any skirt will do.” She said with a small shrug.

“Absolutely not!” Merry said, clearly appalled by the idea. “I have a great niece about your size…. Just finished her seventh year not two years past. If I may, I’ll send her an owl this very evening to see if she has anything for you.”

Brea smiled and gave a small nod. “Very kind of you… as you wish.” She replied before turning back to her plate. Brea felt the whispers of a black feeling slip down her spine, felt a burning in her fingers. Brea tried to focus on Merrys words of excitement, but the urge to cast a dark cruse at the elderly witch were beginning to fill her every thought. Wanting to force Merry to cease her cheerful prattle about an absurd party that Brea had no wish to go to…

Feeling her mind fall down this dark path Brea closed her eyes tightly and took a deep breath, trying as best she could manage to think of happy memories. Thoughts of her past life, before she knew anything about Tom, of what he could do to anyone he chose. And especially what he could make her _want_ to do.

Brea stood abruptly with excuses of feeling a sudden headache. Declining Professor Dumbledore’s concerned offer to escort her to either the hospital wing or her chambers, she strode quickly from the Great Hall. The feeling of endlessly black eyes followed her hasty exit.

Where she should have turned to take the stairs up to her tower, Brea instead and without pause, descended the far staircase, making her way into the maze of dungeons, until she arrived at the abandoned room that she now thought of as The Dark Lords and hers secret meeting room.

Tom felt a brief twinge of concern for his newest follower as he watched Brea’s sudden departure. The small part of his soul that could manage a spark of caring however was quickly switched off by the snake of darkness inside him. A small, knowing smile, that to an outsider looked charming, spoke of how he knew where the witch was off to. And Tom couldn’t be more pleased with how she was coming along perfectly. He was not a fool; he knew she still tried to hold herself back from him as much as she could manage. But he knew that it wouldn’t be long before she was just as loyal as Abraxas Malfoy.

And once Tom had finished with his dinner, he dismissed his Knights, and made his way to the empty and long forgotten room where he was quickly stripping Brea of her free will. He had plans.

On the evening of the Christmas party, Brea stood before her tall mirror, smoothing her hands down her sides of her new hand me down dress, to ease out any creases. Brea felt a sense of lightness as she smiled at her reflection. She felt incredible. The dress from Merrys great niece was spectacular.

A dress of dark emerald color made of soft wool fabric. The collar wide, wrapped around the sides of her arms, showing a great expanse of her shoulders and collar bone, large buttons down the side of her ribcage held the bodice taught, before the skirt fell into small waves to just below her knees.

Feeling nostalgic Brea found her crystal necklace from Martha and the dragon hairpin from Charlie. They both went splendidly with her long hair painstakingly curled, halfway up twisted and pinned, and her white heels. A deep red lace sash tied around her waist to hold her wand in an easily accessible place

For the first time in all the month of December Brea felt some Christmas spirit and gave a girlish giggle as she did a twirl. With one last pat to her hair, Brea left her chambers and began the long walk to professor Slughorns own for a night of merry festivities.

\--When she had arrived Brea had not anticipated partaking in any actual dancing, settling herself to simply mingle and to hear what she could hear, and an afterthought of perhaps learning something that would be of use for Tom.

Brea had slipped into the opened room unnoticed by the host as he was currently occupied by more notable individuals and made her way toward the refreshment table for a bit of tart, skirting around students and adults alike. A few of the party goers were happily dancing to the Christmas records while most were content to stand and partake in the chatter.

Brea ignored the pull of her memories as she walked past the same floor where she had danced just last year. Well the past year to her at least. A brief thought to how much simpler her life had been.

And Brea absolutely refused to remember her dance with Regulus the year before that out under the stars.

Standing next to the pillar she had stood by before Brea watched the dancers dance, and listened to the guests brag about their accomplishments of the past year.

“Ah Brea I see you have arrived.” Tom spoke from beside her; he had arrived silently and unnoticed, startling Brea. Her hand went to her sashed waist as she looked to her side and saw Tom.

Letting out a sigh she dropped her hand back to her side. “Only just.” She replied, looking back towards the dancers.

“I have an assignment for you Brea.”

Brea turned wide eyes on Tom. “An assignment…”

“Yes. See the man near the edge of the alcove, staying in the shadows?”

Brea followed Toms gaze and did indeed see the man in question. Tall and broad shouldered thick with muscle and dark blond hair, middle aged and dressed in appropriate evening attire.

“Not many know this but that wizard is a werewolf.” When Brea didn’t react he continued. “I see you are not shocked. I suppose someone as well traveled as you yourself are wouldn’t be hmm.”

Brea gave a slight nod, her gaze watchful as she waited for Tom to continue.

“All of them are disgusting creatures. Half breeds with a dirty disease.” Tom spoke with his voice dripping venom.

Brea felt a small bite of anger towards Tom as she remembered Remus and how his cruse caused him such suffering. Swallowing the need to defend the werewolves in general Brea acknowledged with an agreeable hum.

“However the animals do have their usefulness. I want you to talk with him. Find out the lycanthropes view on blood purity.”

Brea gave a slow nod. “First we should dance to the next song and then leave me near standing near him.”

“Sound plan.” And Tom held his hand out to Brea which she took. The cold flash of red that always consumed her whenever she touched Tom, no matter how slight the contact. The duo settled into a fast paced waltz as the next Christmas carol began and for a moment Brea forgot that she was quickly becoming a follower of Toms.

“I must say Brea you seemed quite melancholy a moment before I arrived.” Tom said inquiringly.

Brea stared over his shoulder as a young wizard snapped their photo and cleared her expression. “I was remembering the last Christmas party I had attended.”

“Was it not joyful?”

Brea hesitated. “The evening was full of anger.”

“Involving another wizard I’m assuming.” Tom said with disdain in his voice.

“It did. Someone who I once thought was a true love of mine.”

“Love. I didn’t take you to be someone who could actually believe such nonsense Brea. You disappoint me.”

Brea felt her heart skipped and almost missed a step. In that moment she realized Toms eyes glinted red and hard, bringing a flash of fear to her own.

“Much has happened since then and I no longer believe in love. I was pitiful. But then again I am not perfect and something’s must be learned.” Brea hastened to appease Tom. She knew his views on the subject and wanted to pinch herself for making such a foolish mistake.

Despite her explanation, Tom did not looked mollified and instead looked even more dangerous as his grip tightened on her hands.

“I think Brea you are well over due for a lesson. Now I believe our dance is ending.” Tom led Brea toward the alleged werewolf, but before leaving her standing he leaned in close to her ear and said in the quiet yet still dangerous tone. “And Brea… you must not disappoint me.”

Brea swallowed nervously and nodded. Dread was sinking in at the thought of what sort of “lesson” Tom had planned but she knew the only way for redemption was to get the information Tom wanted.

Brea watched as Tom joined Abraxas Malfoy who was standing near the refreshment table before holding her shoulders back and turning towards Toms prey.

 

\--The days drew closer to Brea’s birthday and with them she felt as if she were floating away. Gone was the hopeful friendship she had had with Tom and in its place was the role of master and student with no way out.

Now thanks to her folly instead of teasing and intellectual conversation, their time was spent hidden away usually with Brea mustering up enough hatred to cast a terrible spell on some poor animal. The more it happened the more Brea felt sick with herself. And she knew no way out of it. Not with her life now firmly in his hands.

After the Christmas party Brea had gotten her first taste of the cruciatus cruse by the hands of Tom. The pain had been never ending and worse than anything she had ever experienced before. The only way to get Tom to stop was to beg for his forgiveness.

And according to him she had so much forgiving to beg for. Not only had she made the error of admitting she had once held love in her heart, but she had learned absolutely nothing from the werewolf she had been ordered to glean information from.

The only reprieve Brea found was during her time spent with the younger students. Merry had given Brea more time spent teaching rather than assisting and Brea was ever grateful for the welcome distraction. Always a joy to teach and Brea never grew tired of their antics.

Though when class was done and an emotionally drained Brea would hurry to her chambers after a lesson with Tom, Brea would collapse into bed. Letting go of her defenses, her mind empty Brea would whisper to the Sisters for help. For anything. But as the days passed Brea had never felt more alone.

Tom however felt as triumphant as a King after winning a war as he strolled into the Slytherin common room the night before Brea’s birthday. He was hours away from letting Brea into his cause. With her experience of traveling she would be of great use. Despite her blunder with the werewolf her knowledge of other magical cultures would aid in his cause to rid the world of those with impure blood and he will be supreme.

The little witch was quite promising once she found the power within herself. If she could torture and maim innocent rodents he held little doubt that she was prepared for the next step.

With a pleased smile Tom motioned for his Knights to join him in their dorm room. Keeping the details minimal and his orders to the point he sat back in satisfaction as McNair left to do as he was ordered.

\--“Tom? Where are we going?” Brea asked as she followed the wizard from the castle in the early afternoon. The Great Hall had just dispersed from a weekend lunch. Her eighteenth birthday. But Brea hardly realized that fact. Instead she was nervously curious on why they weren’t making their way to the dark dungeons and instead Brea knew they were making their way to the Forbidden Forest.

“All in good time Brea.” Came his mysterious reply.

Brea couldn’t stop the sense of foreboding as she looked around, following Toms path. The two walked until Brea was certain they were going in circles. Just as she was ready to speak out they entered a clearing.

A quick study and Brea vaguely recognized the area from her detention with Hagrid.

“Why are we here Tom?” Brea asked when she couldn’t find anything out of the ordinary.

Tom was quiet as he walked to the middle of the clearing before speaking.

“From the moment I saw you Brea I knew you were different.”

Brea stiffened, immediately on alert.

“I could sense the need in you. Your need for power. And I can give it to you. I must say I have been very pleased with your progress. You can control the dark magic within you much easier than my other followers.”

Brea’s eyes were wide but she kept the fear from them. “Followers?”

“Oh not to worry they can’t know about you. Not yet. If they knew a witch had entered their prestigious ranks they would kill you before I could order them to stand down.”

Brea conjured up a tight smile. “Charming.”

“Ah but once you are strong enough and have proven yourself loyal to me, to our cause, they will accept you well enough.”

“Our cause?”

“Well yes. In case you have failed to notice there is a plague among our kind. Diluting our blood with their weak ideas.”

“You mean muggleborns.”

Tom sneered, his beautiful face twisted, the sight shocking Brea. “Filthy all of them!”

Brea gave a slow nod, her thoughts briefly on her hidden scars. ”What am I to do?”

Toms face smoothed back into a pleasant smile. “It won’t be quite that easy. You must prove yourself first.”

Brea took a deep breath and her mind blank on ideas on how to get out of this; she accepted her position for the moment. “Alright Tom. How am I to do that?”

His smile turned cold as he waved his wand. “It pleases me that you would ask.”

Brea couldn’t hold back her appalled gasp as Tom lifted an invisibility spell, revealing the young Scot Dwemmer tied to a tree with his arms stung above his head. Brea could see the absolute terror in the boy’s eyes. He must have had a silencing spell cast on him as his mouth opened in cries for help but no sound escaped.

“Your next lesson Brea is to let go of your ability to care. Your obvious love for others is a falsehood and if you are to be by my side as we cleanse this world then first you must cleanse yourself.”

Brea hardly heard a word the young dark wizard said, her eyes were locked on the little boy and she felt a choked whimper well within her. Struggling to swallow it down and never taking her eyes from Scott Brea whispered in the strongest voice she could manage.

“Tom… he’s just a boy…”

Toms delighted eyes at once narrowed at her weakness. “Just a boy? This _boy_ will someday grow up and spread his dirty blood, his unworthy offspring flooding _my_ schools and _my_ political offices. I won’t have it.”

Brea felt despair pulling her down. She could see no way out of this were everyone escaped unharmed.

That is until Brea at last broke her gaze away from Scott and looked to the west. It was with this that something dawned on her. She was just a mere stone’s throw from the apparition line. A new plan rushed to Brea’s mind and she pulled her shoulders back. Prepared to tell her greatest lie yet.

Looking toward Tom she walked slowly to his side. “I would ask for your forgiveness Tom. This has been quite the surprise you must admit.” Brea looked up into his eyes, and reaching for his hand. “Once you put me on the spot I had to look within myself… to see if this was something I could do. You're right. Of course you are right. He’s not innocent in this. With this I realized that I could do this… if you were by my side.”

Tom smiled thinly down at Brea. Satisfied with her answer. “Of course. I realize you are… female. It is in your nature to initially react in such a way. With my guidance you will never fall short again.”

Brea had to grit her teeth at his misogynist words. ‘Female indeed.’ Any guilt Brea had felt about betraying Tom were for the moment gone.

Everything within her that had been suppressed by Toms influence broke free with a flurry of emotion. With a sickeningly sweet smile Brea turned toward the trembling Scott, her left hand holding Toms hand and lifting her wand with her right.

Closing her eyes for a moment and telling the Sisters they better be watching, Brea cried out “ _lacerous.”_ In the seconds that followed Brea ran for her life, Toms ring gripped tightly in her fist, Scott collapsing to the cold ground as her perfectly aimed spell severed his ropes. Brea’s heart pounded in her ears in time with the pound of her shoes upon the cold earth. The sound of Tom roaring her name as he gave pursuit.

Brea pushed out all thought as she came closer to her goal. Stumbling over a fallen log Brea glanced over her shoulder and met Toms enraged red eyes before apparating. This last act was a mistake for it had allowed Tom a glimpse into her poorly guarded and panicked mind. That brief moment had revealed to him on where she had intended to go.

Tom only paused long enough to grip his wand before following suit. The sight he was met with as he disapperated to the cliff he had visited as a child had him screaming in rage.

“Brea you must stop! I forbid you to do this!”

Brea was knelt in the cold mud, Toms ring on a rock before her and the gleaming Gryffindor sword held high. Brea looked up at his plea, tears trailing down her face as she shook her head.

“I’m so sorry Tom. Things will be different after this. You must see. Y-you can be free from-“

Tom lifted his wand ending Brea’s frantic words of pleading. Knowing that this was her moment she closed her eyes and threw every ounce of her strength into her downward swing. Toms scream mixed with the rushing roar from the ring as the sword split the horcrux, destroying the blackened soul from within.

Brea kept her eyes tightly shut and never saw Tom’s reducto spell rushing her way. Brea fell back a familiar dream welcoming her.

_\--A perfect wintery day awaits me just through the doors of a spectacular old house. I stand at the frost edged windows, a cup of steaming hot chocolate held in my hands, staring out at the snow covered street before me. The sun is high, the clouds sparse, and allowing freedom to the sun sending rays of light to turn the snow to diamonds. Not many people stroll the street before me, preferring to keep to their warm homes. I can hear it calling to me, the world outside. Desperate for me to join it and I want nothing more than to oblige, yet… something holds me back. Fear? Grief? Loneliness? All three of these have become prevalent in my life, taking ahold of me, draining my spirit it seems. I allow a deep sigh to escape and lean my overly warm forehead on the cold glass of the window. I feel stifled. Closed in… and I feel never ending guilt because of it. Here I am in this house so full of history, just waiting for me to turn it into a home, and yet I want to leave it behind. Escape its warmth for the bone deep chill of winter…._

Brea withheld a groan of agony as her dream faded and reality came back once more. Her body felt as if it was on fire and it was with great effort that Brea found strength to stand. In her painful daze Brea had failed to take notice of Tom who stood before her and the moment she looked up she felt her head snapped to the side, the sting of his hand sending her to her knees and hands covering her bleeding lip. A whimper escaped and Brea looked up but Tom was stepping past her. Her wand in his hand.

“We could have been great. Taking on the entire world and bringing it to its knees.”

Brea swallowed, the taste of her blood upsetting her stomach. “T-Tom.” Brea gasped out his name.

“You dare speak my name after all that you have done. Not to worry I will just start anew.”

Brea clenched her eyes and shook her head. “Tom you can’t. If you don’t stop you will die. Th-that’s why I did all of this! To try and _save_ you!”

“You stupid girl. I cannot be killed and I will not stop. This is my purpose. _Save_ me? You are a tool. Lesser than myself. You should be begging my forgiveness this moment, pleading for your life.”

“But… you were my friend Tom. I wanted to show you the world. That this life was worth being happy in.”

“Friendship and happiness do not exist Brea! Only the power you hold over others. And you were supposed to give it to me. Your friend? Your betrayal will be dealt with.” Tom snapped as he watched the ocean below.

Brea opened her eyes in defeat. Tom couldn’t be saved. It was never possible. Her eyes fell to the sword lying in the grassy mud just with in her reach. With a mournful sigh Brea quietly stood with the heavy sword in hand, turning to find Toms back facing her, his robes and hair swaying in the wind.

Brea kept her voice steady as she slowly approached Tom, the sword hidden in her cloak. “When I first came here Tom I held the firm belief that I would hate you. That you could not be loved.”

At her words Tom turned to face her, his face blank.

“I held the childish belief that there was only on kind of love and one kind of hate. But since meeting you I have come to realize that there are many different ways to love and hate. For example. I hate the path you have chosen for yourself and therefore the path you have chosen for everyone I hold dear. However I love your cleverness and charm. Please Tom… I am the voice of the future! You must listen to me!” Brea’s voice grew in pitch as she tried to get through to Tom one last time.

But Tom was enraged beyond reason. “Your words are useless. On your knees and beg for me to forgive you and I will consider sparing your life”

Brea shook her head and blinked back fresh tears as she now stood close enough to do what she knew needed to be done. “I am truly sorry Tom. Sorry for failing you and myself. But I must save them.” And with those words Brea pulled forth the glinting sword and lunged for Tom.

The seconds afterwards were full of crashing waves and Toms gasp as he looked down to see the polished steel piercing his abdomen.

Brea covered her mouth with both hands as Tom slumped to the ground, blood begining to trickle from his mouth and his eyes wide.

“Oh Gods Tom! There was no other way!” Brea cried as she dropped to his side, with trembling hands she pulled the sword free and covered his wound with her hands, his warm blood covering them both.

Brea looked at his face when his hands covered her own and he struggled to speak.

“No no shh just we- we have to stop the bleeding! I wanted to save you Tom!”

But he continued to move his mouth, his beautiful eyes for once innocent and pleading. Scared.

“B-Brea. Deep d-down I-“Tom stopped to gasp in pain and squeeze his eyes shut. “I knew y-you were the cl-cl-closest I’d ever have in a- a f-friend.” He opened his eyes once more and gazed up with eyes at peace for the first time. “I s-see that now. It is y-you whom was betrayed. By m-me.”

Brea let out a sob and hugged Toms weakening body to her own. “You were beautiful T-Tom. You were worth saving.”

Brea felt Toms hand limply sweep over her hair. “We- we were going to b-be great. You-you and… I”

And Brea felt her heart break all over again as Toms last words washed over her. Pain wracked her as she realized she had ended the life of Tom Riddle, a wizard who was meant for greatness and cruelly used in a game of revenge. She was sick as she cried over Tom’s lifeless body. Sick with what she had done. Sick with what the Sisters had forced her into.

The grieving witch stayed by Tom’s side for hours. Feeling neither the ocean spray nor the cold winter wind. The only thought she was capable of for the moment was of how beautiful and peaceful Tom looked. The only way Brea was brought from her stupor was from the insistent squeak from her pocket.

“I suppose you’re right Gred. I need to bury him and get you something to eat. The sun will be set soon.” Brea whispered with a dazed glance to the west. Reluctantly Brea picked her wand up from where Tom had dropped it, stood on shaky legs and set to work.

Transfiguring a rock into a spade Brea threw herself into the backbreaking work. Punishing herself for what she had done. Eventually she had a plot dug and she stared down at the finished project in disgust. This was what was to happen to Tom Riddle? To be laid to rest in the mud?

But when Brea looked out over the ocean below, the sun setting in the west, she knew it would be just fine. Tom’s favorite place, facing the journey of the sun.

Once Brea had Tom down where he would eternally sleep, his robe straightened and cleaned, with his wand resting in his folded hands she simply stood there. Willing him to wake. Even once she had begun to cover him, a flinch each time he was covered more and more dirt; she wanted him to open his eyes.

But he never moved. And has Brea transfigured the spade now into a gravestone she began to finally accept that he was truly gone.

By the time she was finished the sun was gone, replaced by the moon. Her glow illuminating the blank stone as Brea stood before it, thinking of what could possibly be put on such an important marker. Finally after much thought Brea used her wand to etch the words ‘Tom Marvolo Riddle _As great and powerful as the setting sun which watches over him for all eternity”_

Brea sighed as she sat beside the lonely grave; exhausted and drained she limply pulled a scrap of bread from her bag for Gred to feast on. “I’m sorry Gred but it’s all I have for the moment. I just need some time to catch my breath.”

And the tired witch curled up on her side in the freezing mud, closing her eyes as clouds drifted over the moon, and snow began to fall, bringing the witch a cold comfort.

As she drifted into a dreamless sleep the Seven Sisters whispered amongst themselves.


	31. A Far Traveled Bird

 

 

The haze of memories cleared and Brea found herself still curled on the cold damp ground. The mist slowly left her gaze and she blinked against frozen drops of rain as they landed on her lashes.

Inch by inch Brea turned until she was faced with what she had condemned one of history’s greatest wizards to. Tom Riddle’s grave. But something was off causing Brea to gasp in surprise, her eyes widened and she crawled through the muddy grass frantically.

With shaking hands she pulled off a handful of what looked like decades of moss and vines from the headstone. The foliage wasn’t there when she had cried herself to sleep on the fresh grave just hours before. Yet now the stone was so blackened and weatherworn, one could hardly make out the inscription Brea had carved with her own wand. She took a shuddering breath and realized this could only mean one thing.

 

‘Yet again I’m in a different time…’ She thought to herself. Anger began to infuse her rioting emotions fighting off the chills from the winter drizzle and she stood hastily, body trembling and eyes in turmoil. Brea wanted to scream but her voice was lost to the confusion and anger welling inside of her.

“Why do I continually have to keep starting over? When is it this time?” She slowly sank back to her knees and rested a cold and bloodless trembling hand on the head of the stone snake before her. “When do I get to finally live _my_ life?” She said quietly, amber eyes closing.

 

Brea knew that she had never belonged in the 1940s, the era was dark with war and oppression and deep down she had never felt she belonged to the 1970s where she spent a large portion of her life. It always seemed as if she was watching the stories and lives of character from books she had read about. Always on the outside of their lives, and always looking in.

 

Brea sighed and lay on her side, watching the waves roll in from the west. “Maybe I don’t belong in any time.” A sudden familiar squeak perked Brea up somewhat and she quickly pulled Gred from her muddied cloak. “Ah Gred…” Brea said with a small smile. “You are the only constant in my life….I may have grown up adoring Regulus and getting know so many wonderful people who were taken unfairly, had a brief moment learning the thin line of love and hate with Tom, and now I’m in the stars-know-where time, but you….” She brought the light fuzzy creature to her nose and nuzzled him. “You have been through it all with me.” Gred gave a warm purr. “What say you that we find out when we are and figure out what to do then yes? Alright then back into the pocket. There ought to be a cracker in there for you. But before we go one last thing.”

 

Brea stood and pulled her wand from her sleeve, check to see Gred now happily nibbling upon a cracker. Silently Brea used magic to clean up Tom’s headstone. The moss and vines receded, as did the aged worn edges.

 

Once again proudly marking the resting place of Tom Marvolo Riddle, each letter glowing, and the snakes’ eyes glittering with emeralds. A simple but beautiful reminder of a damaged and twisted soul.

 

Brea cast an enchantment to keep nature from once again taking over the final proof that Tom had lived and died, and she walked a little ways away from the cliff, eyes taking in every detail. Brea stood there, still, for a long moment, her thoughts torrential once again. She knew not what to say. She had meant everything she had spoken to him before…before she ended his life. All that was left was to leave and see if it had been worth it.

 

“I almost don’t want to know Tom. What happened after 1944. A large part of me is scared that your death was not worth it…. But I suppose it is… unfair to you if I don’t see this through. To see what my actions have brought about.” Brea said quietly.

 

The wind whispered around her restlessly and Brea could almost hear Tom telling her to get on with it. That he had no patience for her delays. “You were right though…as you always were. We could have been magnificent. That is the part which frightens me. More than facing the future I will have created. I’ll return.” Brea thoughtlessly wrapped her soaked robes around her frame. Setting her now battered bag over her head and across her chest then closing her eyes and allowing magic to pull and twist her as she disapperated.

 

Part of the story that Brea will never know began while she lay asleep alongside Tom’s grave. The Seven Sisters gently carried the girl to their realm between realms. A world between many times.

They lay her upon a bed made of the softest grass with the perfume of the sweetest flowers. Their eternally night sky glittered with brilliant stars and the colorful swirls of a cosmic painting.

 

Maia, the eldest of the Seven and Brea’s mother, knelt by her daughters head, softly smoothing down Brea’s pale hair. A sad smile while a tear ran down her cheek, pained by all that had been forced upon her daughter.

 

“Maia. We must tell her.” Electra said with a firm voice as the Sisters gathered around mother and daughter.

 

Maia looked up with a flash of anger in her dark brown eyes. “She needs rest.”

 

“You heard the Fates, Maia.” Asterope spoke from the edge of the gathered Sisters. “You saw the same future as we did.”

 

“Maia, I know what this means… the girl’s father…” Merope began but was cut off by Maia’s angry gesture.

 

“I want him to have no part of this. And Brea… she just needs some time. I _promised_ her true love.”

Merope looked down guiltily. “The Fates are angry. And we didn’t know…”

 

Maia looked back down her bruised and battered daughter. “She was _not_ a mistake. And she may have been born from a human womb, but she is of _my blood._ The blood of Gods and Goddesses runs through her and she will _be given her free will._ I demand it. _”_

 

 


	32. Hogsmead

 

 

Draco Malfoy woke to typical day for a Slytherin student at Hogwarts. The wintery sun was overly cheerful and bright and he was surrounded by students making pitiful attempts to vie for his attention. Everyone knows the weight and power his family name could bring so he resigned to stalk through the halls dodging both witches and wizards from most that he passed.

 

They usually kept it to an overly pleasant “Hello” to which the young Malfoy made a point to ignore. He wasn’t interested in their “hellos” and inquiries to how his father is faring. And for the most part this weekend morning was no different save for Astoria Greengrass intercepting him moments before he reached his destination, the library.

 

“Good morning Draco.” Astoria said with a pleasant smile as she blocked Draco’s path.

 

Draco paused with his back straight and with an impatient tone he acknowledged her. “I suppose. Now if you will…” he motioned for her to step aside.

 

“I saw you skipped breakfast. You know you shouldn’t skip something so important.” Astoria rambled on, crossing her arms nervously. She was two years younger than Draco, and was feeling quite silly following through with the instructions her mother had sent her via owl just that morning.

 

Draco wrinkled his nose as he finally looked down at the girl. A second year Ravenclaw that he hardly knew and even then only because his mother was cordial with hers. He had more important things to think about than why this little witch was bothering him with such a silly observance and he held no small bit of derision from his voice as he replied.

 

“If you know what’s good for you, you will mind your own business.” And before he could make note of the tears that sprang into her eyes he brushed past her.

 

While he might not have noticed the hurt on the young witches face someone did notice. Hermione had blindly been rushing towards the library, in a brilliant flurry of wild brown hair and falling rolls of parchments. Upon hearing Draco’s unkind words Hermione stopped a moment to take in the scene, a frown pinching her brows together. Realizing that Draco had hurt the girls feelings Hermione gave a huff and stepped next to the girl she knew to be Daphne Greengrass’s younger sister and gave her a quick pat on her arm and a consoling smile.

 

Astoria gave a small sniff followed by a smile. “I’m alright. I was simply doing as Mother asked.”

 

Hermione gritted her teeth at what the girl was implying but nodded her head. “She couldn’t possibly know just how unpleasant Malfoy is.”

 

Astoria gave a small giggle and walked away as if nothing had ever bothered her, leaving Hermione shaking her head with a half-smile. Her smile turned into a fierce frown as she looked back toward the library. There was no way she was going to allow Malfoy to get away with treating the little girl so callously. Tilting her chin high Hermione prepared to give the Slytherin a piece of her mind.

 

\--“Hey!” A very disgruntled voice yelled as Brea stumbled back to solidity on the edge of Hogsmead. She blinked her eyes in confusion as she realized she had landed on another person.

 

“Pardon me!” Brea yelped as she reached down a hand to help the younger boy to stand.

 

“Just watch yourself girl. What are you doing anyway?” The boy muttered as he brushed himself off.

 

Brea ignored his difficult tone and looked around her surroundings. The road she stood on was mostly empty, the shops warm and inviting for the winter season. Snow thickly covered every surface it could, and brought a small smile to her face before she turned her attention back to the poor kid she had landed on.

Brea was struck silent as she immediately placed his familiar features. A young yet already handsome face, tall lanky frame, hair nearly as light as hers falling into arrogant pale blue eyes. He reminded her of Lucius Malfoy whom she had met and spent a great deal of time back in another life, and of Draco Malfoy that she had met even further back than that. The boy cut her a haughty smile when he looked up from brushing the snow from his black attire and saw her wide eyed gaze. Brea rolled her eyes and set a hand on her hip.

 

“What’s the date?” She asked in a tone that attempted authority.

 

The younger wizard flicked his gaze down Brea and wrinkled his nose. “Is that blood?” When he did this Brea glanced down and realized her shabby appearance was quite off putting.

 

‘Toms blood.’ She realized with a nauseating shudder. She bit her lip and felt the still raw cut from the blow Tom had dealt her and she touched it softly, her eyes focused over the boys shoulder.

 

“Please…just tell me what the date is…..” Desperate to find her answer, and to leave as soon as she got it. The need to hide running rampant in her bones.

He narrowed his eyes “Fine. But only because you caught me when I was feeling charitable…and because you really do seem quite pathetic.”

 

Brea groaned in frustration and pushed past him muttering about Blacks and how difficult it was to get the bloody date from them.

 

“What- Hey! You can’t walk away from me! And how do you know my family?”

 

Brea swung back to face him in a huff. “Answer my question and I’ll answer yours Malfoy.”

 

The boy she assumed could only be nothing _but_ a Malfoy was taken aback but he answered none the less.

”December 22nd.”

 

“And the year?”

 

He tilted his head to the side, his curiosity very apparent. “1994”

 

Brea let out a breath that she didn’t even know she had been holding. Knees weak Brea leaned her back against the nearest lamp post and put a hand covered in mud and blood on her suddenly heated forehead.

She had no idea how to take this new information. Was she happy that she was sent so far ahead? Was she disappointed that she wasn’t back in 1978…with Regulus and her friends?

Brea shook off her disturbed thoughts, determined to put this behind her for another moment, before looking at a young Draco Malfoy whom would be in his 4th year. “Didn’t go home for the holidays?” Brea attempted to change the subject.

 

Draco didn’t answer but instead demanded, “How do you know my family?”

 

Brea softened her face and shrugged. “Someone I once knew was friends with your Uncles.”

 

Draco narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “Who?”

Brea's eyes unfocused, “Someone who doesn’t matter anymore.”

 

Draco rolled his eyes. “That’s ridiculous. Anyone who knows my family _obviously_ must matter.” He said.

 

Brea couldn’t help the loud laugh this brought out. It was so utterly arrogant and kind at the same time and reminded her of Sirius and Regulus that a little bit of sunshine warmed her heart. Brea looked around, her chuckles subsiding and she noticed a group of wizards and witches around their age group approaching.

 

“Why are so many students here for the holidays?”

 

Draco gave her a look which clearly meant he thought her mad. “How could you not have heard? Tri Wizard Tournament this year.” Draco narrowed his eyes. “What house are you in?”

 

“Gryffindor….” Brea answered distractedly as her eyes had latched onto a witch with familiar brown hair walking next to a girl with long red hair in the group which was now almost upon them.

 

“Figures.” He said with a snort of obvious distaste. ”Year? How come I’ve never seen you arou-“

 

“Hello.” A soft voice interrupted his questions. Brea watched Draco’s eyes widen and his pale complexion gained some color before he whirled around. The girl leaned to the side to get a good look at Brea and Brea felt panic rising in her throat. “Hello I don’t believe we have met. I’m Hermione Granger and this is Ginny Weasley.” Hermione held out her hand in greeting, her eyes warm and shining with intelligence and oh so achingly familiar. Brea's instantly felt like her eleven year old self, and wanted nothing less than to throw her arms around the younger version. Her eyes were full of desperate want as she stared at Hermione silently. Ginny from beside her smiled widely and a fiery glint in her eyes let Brea know she was already a force to be reckoned with.

 

“How do you not know her?” Draco spoke up in confusion. The two newly arrived witches looked at him and Brea backed up slowly.

 

“It… um was fantastic to meet you…” She said as she looked around as if looking for an escape route. Even after all she had been through she still sometimes forgot she was a witch.

 

There was a loud burst of laughter coming from her right and she watched two tall identical wizards and a somewhat shorter wizard with dark skin stumble from the back of The Three Broomsticks, doubled over in laughter. She instantly recognized the red haired twins as George Weasley and who must be the Fred she sadly never got to meet before. The feeling was quite shocking to realize she was seeing Fred Weasley alive. The moment the twins laughing eyes landed on her and before another word could be uttered Brea allowed herself to disappear once again. The six left behind stared at the spot she had been in before George and Lee Jordan dragged Fred off to only they would know where.

 

“She said she was in Gryffindor.” Draco said with suspicious eyes.

 

“I’ve never seen her before in my life!” Ginny said dramatically.

 

Hermione nodded thoughtfully. “Did you notice what she was wearing?”

 

Draco nodded as well “Tch yes. Something I wouldn’t allow even my elves to wear!” To which Ginny rolled her eyes, already knowing the incoming storm he had awakened.

 

“Malfoy! How can you allow such treatment of such wonderful creatures such as elves! They deserve to be paid for their work!” Hermione said passionately to the young wizard.

 

Not one to back down, Draco’s eyes grew stubborn as he yelled back “They like the work Granger! A muggleborn like yourself wouldn’t know anything about the matter so you should just keep to your own kind!”

 

Hermione gasped but before she could retort angrily Ginny interrupted their spat, “Not the issue right now! Hermione! What about her clothes did you notice?”

 

With a lasting glare at Draco Hermione huffed and said smartly. “Their style. It was obviously a style used in the 40s.” Ginny hummed thoughtfully as she considered this.

“She was very adamant about learning what the date was.” Draco said boredly, wishing he had worn his favorite Slytherin scarf as a winter breeze caused him to shiver.

 

Hermione quickly pounced on this information, the thrill of a mystery thrumming through her and lighting her adrenaline on fire. “And?”

 

Draco raised a brow “And?”

 

Hermione rolled her eyes. “How did she react!”

 

“Look I don’t know! She just stood there in thought until I demanded how she knew my family to which she was very vague about and then you two Gryffindorks came along and caused the bird to fly off! Can I go now? It’s bloody cold out here and I’m growing bored of this tiresome conversation.”

 

Hermione itched to raise her fist back and hit Draco in his pretty face. As soon as Hermione had had this thought she cringed and changed her thoughts quickly from ‘pretty’ to ignorant. ‘I do _not_ think Malfoy is pretty.’

 

Thankfully Ginny recognized the thunderous look on Hermione and grabbed her friends arm. “C’mon ‘Mione. Let his Majesty get back to his misdeeds.”

 

Draco gave the two witches a condescending smirk until they had turned away. The smirk then fell into a sad look as the girl with untamable hair and chocolate eyes marched away from him once again. He kicked a mound of snow as he made his way to the Three Broomsticks to where he was meeting his friends Theodor Nott and Blaize Zabini.

 

He was forever saying something in order to get Granger to walk away from him. Just as their row in the library had gone. It was for the best he would tell himself each time. If his father knew he had hoarded some very un-Slytherin like feelings toward the muggleborn Gryffindor he was very sure he would never hear the end of it. Sure his family could tolerate Muggleborns in their society but to actually harbor feelings for one? Unheard of.

 

‘Blood lines mustn’t be tainted.’ Draco thought darkly as he sat in his usual spot with the only friends he considered worthy of the title. And yet still he sat with friends who knew not even his deepest secret and vowed someday he would have the courage to take his life into his own control.

 

Draco sat silently for some time while his friends talked and joked in Slytherin like good nature around him. His thoughts had turned from the know it all, which he found he’d had a hard time doing lately, to strange dream like memories he’d been having since late yesterday evening.

 

Dreams which would suddenly appear before his eyes as he walked a hallway or held a conversation. The first of which had been a brief showing of his father’s tall imposing figure standing far above his own young form. They both had appeared to be in Diagon Ally. He must have been around the age of seven. His father held his cane under Draco’s own childlike chin as he trembled, and his father’s words threatening and cold. “You are a Malfoy, boy. And as such you are to never associate with mudbloods again. Are we clear?”

 

The dream Draco held his shoulders stiff, as if trying to fight off trembles of terror. Once he had given a tight jerk of a nod, his father’s image had pushed the handle of his cane just a fraction further under the boys chin. “Now back to your mother and your studies. You won’t be head boy if you spend your days wasting time away from them.” And the cruel dream faded away as his father shoved him with his cane, the last sound was his childish whimper.

 

At the time Draco had been walking towards the great hall for breakfast but once the vision had faded away he found himself standing at the top of the Astronomy tower and to his shock none other than Granger had been there. A dazed expression receding. Before he could ponder how he came to be in the tower, why she was there was well, and why he was imagining something that had never happened.

 

Sure his father, much like the rest of their family, held certain distaste for muggles and muggleborn witches and wizards. This however did not stop them from doing business or even holding the occasional conversation with someone of lower than pure blood. Certainly his father had advised him to choose friends selectively but he never outright forbade him and he had never once in his life treated his son so callously. So before he could process anything what so ever Granger laid into him verbally.

 

He had watched her in stunned silence while her hair had seemed to crackle and her cheeks were flushed. Dressed in muggle clothes for the weekend, which they were nothing of great fashion but the jeans and buttoned coat seemed to suit her perfectly.

 

While Draco’s mind had wondered from the insane unanswered questions to what Granger would look like if she were garbed in dress robes when without warning she fell silent, her eyes moving as if she were watching a Quidditch match or something with a lot of activity. Then as soon as it had happened she paled and turned away with no other word and left the tower as quickly as she could.

 

The occurrence was a precursor to many strange happenings and “dreams” to plague Draco. Once Draco saw himself call Granger a mudblood and her expression devastated him and later after that in another vision Granger hit him in his nose. He didn’t get to see why but was sure he deserved it which caused him to wince. Another time he saw a horribly disfigured wizard transfigure him into a ferret. These dreams following the initial vision were much briefer and did not end with him mysteriously standing in the Astronomy Tower, besides a bewildered and upset Granger, which he was grateful for. And then the insane encounter just moments ago with the very odd and mysterious girl. ‘Probably a prank or playing at mysterious on purpose.’ He thought with a hint of contempt.

 

“Oi Draco this round of butter beers on you so hop to it!’ Blaize said loudly enough to cut through Draco’s musings. Draco good naturedly rolled his at his dark skinned friend while the others cheered.

 

“I swear you only hang around with me for my rounds of butter beer!” Draco said while standing from their table and leaving to make the order. For the moment his thoughts pushed to the side. The visions of himself as a person he truly didn’t like, his suspicion that Granger was experiencing the same, and Mistress Mystery, determined to be a better person.

 


	33. Into the West

 

Brea apparated back to the only place she knew. Far from prying eyes and curious questions Brea dug her expansive tent from her bag. She constructed the magical tent in record time along the cliff edge just feet away from Toms resting place. Brea felt almost morbid for doing such a thing but she honestly felt lost and alone and for some unknown reason incredibly frightened.

Brea felt her fear was irrational, after all she had faced terrifying task after terrifying task. And almost always alone. The only time she hadn’t been alone was when she had had Lucius secretly training her in occlumency.

So if she has spent half of her life conquering her fear in order to do what must be done why she was suddenly so afraid to be somewhere, or _when_ everything seems so safe?

Brea shook her head at herself and tried to lock her fear away long enough to get settled. Using her wand she quickly organized the tent, and once Gred was sat among the blankets on her bed she collapsed back in exhaustion. Unable to really even remember the last time she ate she promised Gred that she would find some food the next day. Her promise accepted with a purr the exhausted witch fell asleep, still in her robes and shoes from her final encounter with Tom.

 

\--Brea slowly opened her eyes hours later to a dark tent and the sound of familiar waves. She knew she had hours still before morning light so she laid there trying to gather her thoughts into organized compartments.

‘Ok let’s see….brought forwards in time fifty years…have a delightful chat with the young version of Hermione’s would be forever love. Only to moments later come face to face with the young version of the woman who helped raise me from my mysterious beginnings. Hit with the reality that I still didn’t know if I had committed murder for anything at all.’ Brea sighed as she watched the dark walls of the tent sway with the wind outside. “Brea the girl who tries and tries but is never in the right time...” she muttered. She suddenly growled at herself. “What happened to you? Stop being so bloody depressing, and _do_ something.” Picking herself up yet again from the shambles of emotions and actions she felt around for her wand. “ _Lumos_ ” she said and looked at the time on her watch. “4:47 in the A.M…..nearly twelve hours of rest Gred. Let’s start the day shall we?”

Brea quickly lit a fire in the little fireplace along the far wall of the tent and dug through her bag. Finding nothing to eat except a stale roll that had been in there an unidentifiable amount of time Brea decided a trip to town was in store. Luckily she hadn’t grown any taller since she had lived in 1978 so her wide legged blue jeans would be passable. Not sure if anyone still listened to the Beatles in the 1990s but she didn’t have a wide variety so she slipped on the t-shirt anyways.

Brea flinched when she finally looked in the mirror. She hardly recognized herself with her face sickly pale, dark circles under her eyes, a bruised lip and her hair a wild tangled mess. Deciding there was nothing she could do for the pale skin and black circles she did run her brush painfully through the mess.

After some time wrestling with the long hair Brea grew frustrated and upset. Tears entered her eyes against her wishes and before she could comprehend what she was doing she was digging in a basket for scissors. Finding the silver handles at last she cut her hair up to her ears in a flurry of angry snips.

Once the last strand had landed softly at her feet Brea took in what she had done with a sense of relief. She felt as if an incredible weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She was filled with the knowledge that no one knew her nor cared if she did something so drastic. It was…quite lifting Brea thought as she smiled at herself in the tarnished mirror. However when her brief smile fell away she vowed that she wasn’t doing _that_ again. Her face became so angular she could pass as a vampire!

Brea whispered a goodbye to Gred and left the tent. By now the sun was just rising and the deep breath Brea inhaled gave her strength. Quickly casting a few protective charms over her only home and a sad smile at Tom’s headstone, Brea disapperated to the already busy streets of London. The day looked promising for a snow covered winters day Brea only had her cloak given to her by Hermione so long ago now and so she did manage to stand out after all but Brea was oblivious.

She stood in a park near to the orphanage she had once been welcomed in and astonishingly it all looked the same. The vehicles looked different and the clothes were full off eccentric patterns and colors but it all felt almost…normal to her. A curious sense of welcoming as she entered the street on the mission for food and if her meager savings meant anything it was that she would need a job.

By the time Brea appeared back before her tent, the day was almost dark, yet her smile as she burst through the opening spoke of grand news. “Well Gred! I bring you your long awaited breakfast, lunch, and dinner.” She smartly settled a handful of food for her dear friend to enjoy. “As well as the news of a job!” Brea spun around lightly, landing on her bed, the feelings of lightness and being carefree still with her. “That’s right you are now roommates with Brea Fox: hard working employee for Mr. and Mrs. Smith’s Gifts!” she rolled onto her stomach and smiled at Gred. “The pay is minimal and the hours are long but I’ll be useful and…” her smile left “and it’ll do for now until we figure out where we are going eh?” Brea turned back onto her back ignoring memories. “It’ll do for now…” she ended with a whisper.

And it did do her well. For the next seven months Brea had a solid routine down to the minute. Every morning before sunrise Brea would wake, and get ready for the day which included making sure Gred was tended and her supplies well stocked, making mental notes to pick up anything which was lacking. Once she ate her packaged banana nut muffin followed by a cup of instant coffee Brea was dressed in her work uniform which consisted of a white collared shirt with the flag of England on the back and “Mr. and Mrs. Smith’s Gifts” emblazoned across the flag.

The gifts were of the novelty England type directed towards tourists visiting the Tower of England which happened to be across the street. Her uniform shirt which she kept in pristine condition was always neatly tucked into a pair of black slacks, cinched with a thin black belt. Her hair which was now shaggy with curls to her shoulders, held back by a wide headband covered in the England flag. She still wore her black lace up boots which reached over her ankle.

Brea had managed to gain some weight and if the amount of times a foreigner coming into the shop had asked her out meant anything it was a nice development her curves had now.

With every hair in place and her sadly underused wand hidden she would make sure all her spells were still effective. A soft good morning to the ever watchful snake on Tom’s headstone and a pop to London would begin her day.

Each day Brea would assist in opening the shop, take a fifteen minutes break at 10 am, a thirty minutes lunch at 2 in which she would sit on a bench across the street, eating a soggy cheeseburger from McDonalds around the corner, sipping a sweet tea, and feeding her crumbs to the pigeons. At 6 pm the shop would close for the day and Brea would return to her home, unless she needed something from the market.

Once Toms headstone received her soft “Hello there Tom” she would enter, undress and make sure her uniform was put up neatly and ready for the next day of work. Using her wand she would get her makeshift shower running and take a quick shower, dress in an Ireland quidditch t-shirt and plaid pajama pants. Her dinner would usually consist of soup and a sandwich followed by a slice of market baked pie, and hot tea. Once her mess was cleaned away and the weather permitted Brea would spend the rest of the evening out on the cliffs edge watching the horizon and the sun sinking into it. Once the sun was gone for the night Brea returned to her bed and would reread one of her books.

She now knew the 4th year charms book like the back of her hand as it were… And then Brea would sleep only to wake and do it all over again with very little varying from this.

Brea saved every cent she could of what she earned, in a jar beneath her bed. Her interactions with people were kept friendly but passive. She had no interest in creating relationships outside of her employers. They were elderly and kind and Brea got on grandly with them. Her customers were usually full of excitement and stories as well as fascinating accents. Very few had ever caused her any problem and she truly enjoyed learning where each was from. But that’s as far as she took it. She didn’t take the time to learn their names, nor did she for the middle aged man whom she bought the pies from.

Yet the moment Brea landed outside her tent on the evening of July 21st she instantly knew something was different. Her wards didn’t go off so she knew it wasn’t an intruder. “Who came to see us Tom…”Brea whispered not really expecting an answer. She withdrew her wand from her pocket and readied a defensive spell. As far as she was aware no one knew she was here so when she opened her tent and swept her eyes around the darkened interior she was relieved. Yet her eyes fell upon the floor and there sat a familiar envelope with the seal of Hogwarts on the front. With a sigh Brea picked up the letter and sat at her table staring silently for hours.

 

September 1st was a foggy morning as Brea silently packed away her possessions and said another goodbye to Tom. Even now she was uncertain as to what she was going to do. Brea however did arrive at Platform 9 ¾ rather early yet she did not board. She stood silently in her dark blue cloak watching as students and families of all types arrived, said the goodbyes and separated. Brea was absolutely torn. Hogwarts was one of the only homes she had ever truly had. Hogwarts was constant and always there for her. Much like Gred. But she was afraid. Afraid of what she changed and what she didn’t change.

“Are you lost?” Brea jumped to the side startled and pulled her wand from her sleeve. “Woah woah woah! Was just checking to see if you were lost ya know? You looked…out of place?”

Brea's wide eyes took in the familiar form of George…or could it be Fred? He was just as tall as she remembered though now she had grown till her forehead reached his shoulder.

Thick red hair fell onto his forehead, eyes bright and the perfect color blue twinkled and he had a faint line of freckles over his nose and cheeks bones.

The cheeky Weasley held his hands up in surrender. Brea swallowed and lowered her wand. Even when she had almost attacked him the wizard had held amusement on his handsome face. “I-I’m not lost.” Brea managed to get out. This was the first time she had fallen into such a defensive position since…since her confrontation with Tom on her birthday and she was startled with how natural it still came to her.

His blue eyes sparkled as he gave a crooked grin and he shoved his hands in his slack pockets, his sweater forming to his shoulders. Brea admitted to herself immediately he was well fit and she quite liked the smell of fireworks and broom polish that seemed to surround him. “Well I take it you aren’t a first year” he said with confidence and his gaze followed her from head to toe and back up again.

Brea flushed. With anger or embarrassment or more than likely both. ‘There go his attractive qualities…’ A bit of heat melted her amber eyes to gold and she was ready with a retort. A sound set down. And she opened her mouth to deliver and cut the smile from his face when she was interrupted by someone hollering his name.

“Oi Fred! Freddie!!!” Brea felt her indignation being smothered with amusement as Fred Weasley stood before her and his cocky grin turned into a frown and he closed his eyes with an almost silent growl. “Freddie poo!”

Brea looked to the side to see his counterparts George and the boy she had seen him with back in Hogsmead. They were both waving their arms with the clear intent to cause the irritated Fred in front of her embarrassment.

“I believe you are being hailed from afar Freddiekins.” Brea said with a genuine smile at the wizard’s discomfort. He snapped open his eyes, ready for the challenge in her voice but it was put on hold when he noticed the most beautiful smile on the beautiful witch before him. And for a brief moment he wondered if maybe that smile was for him. Until she whispered something but he couldn’t make out the words.

“What’s that?”

When the girl didn’t answer him he looked over his shoulder to follow her line of sight. In the short distance Fred failed to notice anyone of any significance. There were several families milling around.

But to Brea she only saw one person in the crowd of many. There stood Regulus Black, delightfully alive and middle aged.

“ _Regulus.”_ Brea breathed out and took a step forward, everything else leaving her mind.

‘Look at me…’ she thought. Brea was nearly to Regulus when his head suddenly turned toward her and for a moment Brea thought, no _hoped_ , that he remembered her somehow, some way. And his wonderful familiar smile only solidified that he _did_ indeed remember her. But what Brea had failed to notice in her happy trance was the little girl yelling “Poppa!” as she sprinted past. But once Regulus knelt and scooped the girl into his arms, a tall woman yelling “Altaria!” brushed past Brea, she realized her mistake.

Brea stopped frozen as she watched Regulus wrap a free arm around the woman and give her a quick peck. “It’s fine Cora! I wanted to surprise her. I couldn’t very well miss my darling leaving for her first year!”

Realization hit Brea and she felt her soul crack. Quickly she compartmentalized everything she knew. Regulus was alive, alive, and married and with a daughter. He was all of this and Brea realized something else. She noticed the light in his eyes. He was fulfilled and happy. _Happy._ And while she may be standing there she was nothing to see.

 

Brea stumbled back until she hit the brick wall and rested a hand on her stomach, fighting back tears.

Fred who had curiously watched the entire scene had a thousand questions but something told him that this wasn’t something he should bother the witch about.

Brea snapped her eyes back to Fred and shook her head. “I won’t be going.” Not entirely sure why she said anything at all but she just felt someone somewhere should know that there was a girl who was leaving and they would never see her again.

Fred cocked his head to the side in curiosity. “I don’t understand. You can’t just _choose_ not to go to school….can you?”

Brea gave him a smile and remember that in the world she was from Fred and George left Hogwarts before finishing their seventh year. “You should finish… finish school, make your mother proud. I have something I forgot to do.” Brea was fixing to turn on the spot before Fred’s “Wait!” held her in place. She felt impatience filling her and she now felt several pairs of eyes on her. “Yes?” she said, making sure to fill her tone with irritation.

“What’s your name?” Fred asked, putting a hand around her upper arm. Both felt the warmth of the contact through her soft cloak and Brea was nearly consumed by the need for a connection with another human being. It had been ages since she had allowed more than enough contact for a quick handshake from tourists. And Fred’s large hand on her arm reminded her of her self-imposed loneliness. But she held it off. She was so damaged it wouldn’t be fair to sweet innocent Fred.

‘But’ she thought to herself ‘I may be damaged but I don’t mind leaving behind a bit of chaos’ so Brea did something so utterly uncharacteristic she immediately wanted to take it back. But she had already taken the lead and leaned up while pulling Fred down so she could whisper in his ear. And Fred was not one to deny a beautiful witch if she wanted to pull him down to her level so he went willingly, already high fiving himself on his good fortune.

And when Brea whispered “Wouldn’t you like to know my dear Freddiekin Weasley...” he was soundly disappointed. Fred watched her intently as she stood back watching for him. He skipped the obvious question and instead asked. “Why won’t you be coming?”

Brea smiled softly as she backed away slowly. “You see I made this list…”

Fred took a step towards her. “What’s on this list?”

“A list I made so long ago that I’d quite forgotten about it…”

“And?” Fred was thoroughly intrigued and followed as the witch took another step back, a playful light glowing from her eyes.

“And on this list was a list of adventures I promised myself.”

Fred felt the pang of sadness and the unexplainable urge to follow. “Why can’t they wait?” He could never leave his family like that so instead he said with a bit of huskiness in his voice. Wanting her to stay.

Brea smiled sadly. “They have been waiting for eighteen years. And they give me the reason I need for running.”

“What happens when your adventures are done?”

Brea shrugged. “Perhaps I make a new list. Maybe find my castle on a cloud again. Or I might just fade away.”

Fred decided he didn’t like how serious this conversation was becoming and the loud whistle of the Hogwarts Express told him time was running out. He went to ask her name once more but it seemed as if Brea could read his mind as she shook her head while tapping the tip of her nose.

Fred then had to stand there as she disappeared and Hermione spoke from behind him. “Did she say her name?” Fred shook his head and strode for the train. He listened as Hermione followed him, filling him in on the encounter she and his sister as well as the Malfoy boy had had with her this past winter. He was interested in how she could be associated with the Blacks. A few were alright but most of the family had a touch of madness. And he remembered her reaction to Regulus Black.

He remembered her short pale hair and spoke thoughtfully as he finally found the compartment with his twin brother and their best friend Lee Jordan. “She might be your Malfoys long lost sister.”

Hermione huffed from behind me. “First off he is not _my_ Malfoy. Second I doubt it. She didn’t come off as ridiculously, irritatingly stuck up and cold. And-“Hermione smirked knowingly “And I think she quite fancied you.”

Fred seemed very pleased by Hermione’s observation. He thought back to the witches’ appearance. She was short, just barely reaching his shoulders. ‘But then again I’m pretty tall.’ He thought. Her face was lightly tanned marred by the odd freckle here and there and a thin pale scar on her cheek, her nose in proportion with her high cheek bones, rosy lips with just the right curve. Her eyes amber with a hint of green framed with wisps of pale hair. She had had the hood of her cloak pulled up so he wasn’t sure of the exact color but it seemed similar to Malfoys.

In all Fred thought she was stunning and not only that but she had a sense of fiery humor that drew him even more than her looks did. In the split second he had glimpsed of her personality had had him nearly ready to abandon his family and dreams to follow her on hers. ‘I’m going insane already!’ he thought. And her mysterious behavior didn’t ease his mind any either.

Finally George and Lees teasing couldn’t be contained for another moment and George said “Sure right fancied him so much the bird disappeared.” His laughter mingled with Lees and Fred shot them a confident smirk.

“She’ll be back. Just you wait Georgie.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and announced “Well I’m going to the prefect compartment. Try to stay out of trouble you three. Which-“her tone turned all knowing “means leave the first years _alone_.” And the intelligent witch flounced off leaving the three older boys yelping sarcastically “By jolly of course we will!” from their compartment door. Waving and grinning at the curious faces peeking from beyond other compartment windows they settled back to their seats.

“Don’t worry Fred. What’s one witch when here we are in our last year of Hogwarts and the grandest plans in the world just around the corner?” said Lee.

Fred grinned, “Speaking of plans gents….this past Quidditch World Cup was extremely profitable and gaining interest as we speak.” As the three huddled together discussing their future plans the Hogwarts Express was already carrying them toward the end of one of many chapters of their lives and meanwhile Brea was finishing her own chapter.

A misty goodbye to Toms Cliffside which had given her a sense of- as ridiculous as it may sound when referred to Tom Riddle but a sense of normalcy and peace. It gave her the space she needed to grieve and hurt for what she had done and what she still knew was unknown. “As always Tom… I’ll return and tell you of what I find.” While she felt at peace with Tom there was still so much to be said for Regulus. Knowing he was alive, that he had survived his fate was so incredibly important to Brea but she just didn’t know how she felt about any of it.

She knew she should be selfless and happy for the life he has made but Brea knew the dark influences in her life prevented her from going straight to acceptance. He had the life she had always wanted and once she had wanted it with him. So she held her memories of Regulus in her heart until she could find the courage to accept it all.

Once her goodbye was done Brea knew what she wanted to do. She was done fighting. She had to lose herself in the world for a bit so she found the nearest ship yard, spent nearly her entire savings on a compact yet sturdy sail boat, aptly named “The Sea Witch”. She was a wooden boat just big enough for three sails and a single person room below deck.

A chipped turquoise paint and the look of a boat that had weathered many a storm Brea fell in love the moment she saw the little boat and bought it immediately, brushing off the crusty old sailor who seemed reluctant to sell to a girl so young.

Brea simply smiled kindly at him and said “Sir you not only are getting a fair price but you are giving this girl here a chance. And for that you will always be remembered by me. I promise…I’ll take good care of your Sea Witch.” With what money she had left over she gently left the docks and turned toward the open ocean with the salty wind in her hair and her sails.

“Ready for this Gred?” Brea asked her oldest friend who was perched upon her shoulder. He gave a chirp. “We will be back. But first let’s see what America is like.” And the two sailed, following the sun into the west.

 


	34. Letters, Contracts, and… Skittles?

 

The low murmur of chatter, occasionally interrupted by a loud exclamation of excitement, more than like than likely that of a Gryffindor, filled the corridor of the Hogwarts Express. Draco, ever prompt and taking the duties of a Slytherin prefect immensely serious, had been waiting in the prefect compartment for far longer than any of the other houses. Rather surprised that he had arrived as early as he did given the hellish morning he’d had.

His day had begun just as it had every morning for the past summer. Waking early, dressed in order to please his mother’s elegant standards, and a quiet breakfast alone before meeting his father in the study. In the time Draco sat alone in the prefect compartment he thought back to his latest meeting with his father.

\--Draco gave a firm knock on the doors polished frame, his back straight as he awaited his father’s bid to enter. Once received, Draco entered promptly and took his usual chair, centered to his father’s grand cherry wood desk.

At these usual morning meetings Lucius Malfoy would discuss the families many business holdings and investments, contracts and business partners. Over the past summer Draco had had an increased dealing in how his father’s business decisions went. Even being allowed to consult with the family’s lawyer over a contract renewal with a major potions supplier they invested in.

As Draco casually rested his ankle across his opposite knee he took quick notice of his father’s stern expression. He knew there wasn’t much for them to discuss as he was to leave for Kings Cross Station in a few moments and he still had yet to see his mother before leaving. She usually took her breakfast in bed as was proper for married ladies of stature. Or so he had been told once when he was a young boy.

After a quick look at his father Draco noticed several familiar rolls of parchment in the center of the organized desk and couldn’t help a slight cringe. There. He had found the source of his father’s dour expression.

“I see you have noticed then. I believe these… letters are yours. Do you care to explain?” Lucius said as he leaned forward slightly and handed the parchments to his son.

Draco resisted the urge to roll his eyes and make a snarky comment about his father invading his privacy but he knew it would be useless. His father would simply spew some tirade about doing what he had to do to protect the families’ interest. And Draco knew he would argue back and forth and then he would be late for the Hogwarts Express and that was not a mess he wanted to get mucked into. So instead Draco held his silence and crossed his arms giving his father a hard stare.

He knew what was in the letter. Nothing of any concern whatsoever, to an outsider. It wasn’t the contents themselves that had caught his father’s attention he knew. But rather whom the letters themselves were from. The letters had been from little muggleborn Hermione Granger, many of them wanting to know why he had borrowed Headmaster Dumbledore’s first edition tome about the discovery of the phoenix and the wars fought over them.

See Draco had been interested in the history of ancient magical wars for some time, and near the end of his fourth year Draco had been in the Headmaster’s office reporting the fact that he had encountered Harry Potter and Ron Weasley as they had been leaving the Forbidden Forest for whichever ridiculous reason the pair had entered he’d had no idea.

Draco himself had been coming from Hagrid’s Hut, leaving behind a small group of rule breakers to serve their detention. During the trek he had noticed Potter and Weasley quickly making their way from the forest, their heads bent low and their hands moving in sync with their discussion.

Draco had considered following them, attempting to overhear just what it is they had been doing in the forest, and Weasley being a prefect no less meant that he had done a serious offense. Draco however decided it was best to go directly to the headmaster and allow him to deal with their rule breaking.

What Draco hadn’t known at that time was that Dumbledore himself had sent the duo into the Forbidden Forest to deliver some promised concoction of his to one of the centaurs. It wasn’t until after Dumbledore thanked Draco for his diligence in up keeping with the schools rules and taking his prefect duties serious before explaining just what the two young wizards had been doing out and about in the forest.

Immediately Draco had felt embarrassment before irrational anger towards his two classmates. Leave it up to the class favorites to make a mockery of his dutiful intentions. He had then swiftly nodded his understanding and as he’d turned to leave the office, from the corner of his eye he’d spied the faded title “The Great Phoenix War” settled on the corner of the cluttered yet organized desk and stopped in his tracks.

Professor Dumbledore noticed Draco’s line of sight and gave a knowing smile as he inquired whether or not Draco would like to borrow the book to read over the summer. And as a young mind with many interests, one of which was ancient magical wars, Draco immediately accepted the offer, his ire towards Harry and Ron forgotten.

Little did Draco know but definitely his devious headmaster did, the one Miss Hermione Granger was well on her way to becoming a young historian. The Headmaster had known this because the young witch was ever making her way into the Headmasters office and riffling through his endless collection of books. Obviously not satisfied with the castles impressive extensive library, Hermione had begun just that week to make her way through Dumbledore’s own personal collection.

And it was not but two days into the summer vacation, Draco had been seated in the window seat of the estate’s library, a cup of tea steaming in the window sill, and his borrowed book laid across his lap while he eagerly read about old empires of past centuries fight over the rare and powerful creatures, when he’d been startled by the sudden angry pecking on the glass.

There impatiently waiting to be allowed entry was a small tawny owl, ruffled feathers a mess with a small scroll tied to her leg.

Muttering to himself about the rudeness of the feathered creature Draco had stood to allow the owl inside then attempted to untie the scroll while dodging the sharp beak that pecked at his fingers.

“Hey now! Do you want me to take the thing or not!” He’d exclaimed at the irritating bird.

Rather than answer the little owl and simple ruffled her light brown feathers again and allowed Draco to take his letter. Sitting back down with a scowl Draco had unrolled the scroll, taking notice of the neatly written words. He’d immediately recognized them from the times when Hermione Granger had been instructed to write across the blackboard over the years for whichever class professor had given the instruction. He’d thought then that it was of impeccable neatness. His thoughts of admiring the witch’s handwriting immediately dissolved as he began to read the letter, never once wondering why she would write.

He hardly associated with her since she was muggleborn and it wouldn’t be acceptable to do such a thing. And not only that Draco admired her intelligence but she was a bit too intense when it came to actually discussing anything of relevance with her. The girl liked to argue, or debate, as he’d over heard her call it to Weasley when he himself had accused her of being argumentative.

In fact just that past Christmas she had followed him into the far reaches of the castle library just to argue that he had treated Astoria Greengrass with deplorable taste moments before! It was instances like that that kept him from seeking her out, even if she crept into his thoughts more often that he or his father would like.

No, it was best if he simply avoided her and her temper all together. But none of this entered his mind as he took his seat once more and if this letter was of any indication he had incited her ire big time.

 

_Draco Malfoy,_

_You have to be the most inconsiderate being on the face of the Earth! Do you not ever think of others at all? Do you honestly believe that simply because your family has money that you are free to do whatever it is you please? Having met your father myself I have come to the conclusion that he has done a marvelous job of raising his son to be just as rude and self-serving as he is! The nerve!_

_Why did you know that he personally shot down my bid to meet with the Minister of Magic in regards to have the laws pertaining to the treatment of house elves changed? Of course you did I imagine! Why I’m positive that you are more than likely the one who told him all about it as I had spent the past few months campaigning for their rights at Hogwarts. I had worked spectacularly hard to have my letter to the minister finally reach him only to receive a final response of the matter from one Lucius Malfoy. Imagine my surprise when indeed my campaign was rejected._

_This matter however is not why I went through the bother to write to such an unpleasant person as yourself though since I did bring it up I may as well warn you that I have not given up on the matter! Let it warn your father as well that I am very determined to win these poor elves their rights!_

_No the matter in which was the proverbial “last straw” was bring informed by Professor Dumbledore that while he had at last found the only known copy of “The Great Phoenix War” this side of the English Channel (which I had been waiting to read since I leaned of its existence from Sir Nicholas) had been lent out just days before to the one and only you._

_Dumbledore naturally came up with all sorts of excuses for why he lent the priceless book to you instead and while all well put but it stands without a doubt in my mind that you somehow knew that the book was meant for me. I’m certain of it. Honestly what could you possibly want with it?_

_I however had a great need to read the book; I am seeking an apprenticeship with Bathilda Bagshot you know. You know the author of Hogwarts, A History? That is correct she and I have been in contact over the previous year, incited by myself when learning of the Tri Wizard tournament and she is an impressive historian. The amount of knowledge she knew about the competition… was simply as if she had been there in the beginning herself! Did you know Hogwarts won the first ever tournament? Simply put: fascinating._

_As you can see in order for my application for apprenticeship as her assistant once I graduate to be even considered it must be incredibly impressive and I had searched for the perfect time period to write about in my application. Learning Dumbledore had the one book needed for my research was like the light at the end of a seemingly endless tunnel._

_Now then I have taken the time to explain why I need that book Malfoy. I request that you send it to me immediately with my owl Skittles._

_-Completely annoyed by your actions_

_-Hermione Granger_

_Also as you may well know, Skittles bites. I’d tell you the secret to winning her over but I’d rather not._

Once he had completed reading the angry letter, a stunned Draco read it again. And then he read it once more.

“That… that insane, unbelievably, completely mad witch!” Draco had managed to get out from between a clenched jaw.

This resulted in “Skittles” squawking and ruffling her feathers again as if to stand up for her mistress.

“I have never been more insulted…” Draco had begun and before he could consider anything else he set about writing his reply. After writing a hasty retort and dodging the more dangerous than she looks bird’s beak, he quickly tied his letter to the bird’s short leg.

“Now then you take this back to your owner. Go on be gone with you!” Draco had shooed the bird away, snatched up the letter from Hermione and stomped up to his room, cursing her with every step he took.

He would have liked to say that had been the end of the matter, his refusal to send Granger what she thought was rightfully hers, unfortunately for him was not. Over the course of the entire summer, every Monday Draco would hear the tapping of Skittles on the library window with yet another ranting letter from Hermione about some offense or another that would come to her mind.

At first it was about Dumbledore’s book and her meeting with the minister, which eventually turned into once again his treatment of Astoria Greengrass, which led to how he treated people in general and on and on. He would read her letters, get angry, and write an equally angry letter back, attacking her for her bossiness and her need to always be right and how about how she was treating him for that matter?

Sometime in the midst of these angry letters things began to change. The tone was no longer angry but… not exactly friendly. More calming and acquaintance like. Draco began to write about his mother’s tiresome tea parties and his father’s endless business lectures. And always with a tease about the book he still had yet to send her way, despite having finished it several times over.

Hermione would reply with a berating for calling his own mother tiresome before writing about some lecture she had her parents take her. Where once Draco had felt a sense of dread when Monday morning would dawn, he’d began to anticipate the weekly letters. Which once they arrived via grumpy tawny owl Skittles, he’d read the neatly written letter with a range of emotions on his face. Going between a small smile when she wrote about how wonderful some museum was or scowl when she brought up a visit shed had with the Weasley’s or the Potters.

Once read Draco quickly wrote his own weeks escapades , throwing in a complaint about how unlikeable her fellow Gryffindors’ are, tossing Skittles a cracker from his tea tray, tying the scroll to the distracted birds scrawny leg and sending her on her way with a semi affectionate look.

Draco would deny it but the damn bird was growing on him. He’d even had the occasional conversation with her, usually a complaint about her wild haired mistress.

Once the bird would take flight, Draco would leave the letter in his desk inside his room; clearly underestimating his fathers need to invade his privacy.

Once Draco had his letters firmly gripped in his fist he stood to leave without another word on the matter. He truly had no desire to argue with his father so a quick and silent retreat seemed in order. Lucius however was not so willing to drop the matter so quickly.

“Sit.” Lucius said with a firm voice.

Draco gave a dramatic sigh typical for a teenager irritated with their parent but he did as he was bid.

“Look father I don’t wish to be late and I still haven’t seen mother-“

“Then I’ll keep this brief.”

Draco hunched his shoulders slightly at his father’s tone, the random visions he’d had over the course of the past half year, came to mind. Visions of a cold and brutal Lucius Malfoy. And while his real father was definitely not the sort to take his son on long meaningful strolls he had certainly never been cruel.

But with the glint in his father’s eye in that moment, Draco knew that somewhere inside of the already intimidating man was a man you did not want to cross.

“I am willing to dismiss Miss Granger’s rather colorful descriptions of me and my decisions in regards to her… hobbies, I am not willing to dismiss the fact that you have been corresponding this past summer with… a muggleborn witch.”

“Father-“

“Draco this is unacceptable. Your mother and I have allowed you the freedom to do as you wished and now I see that it has been a mistake. Perhaps you should have been informed of your future years ago. Yes if we had you would have been spared this embarrassment of allowing yourself to become disgustingly attached to someone like… her.”

Draco had felt his anger rising and his fist clenching even more. Normally he would agree with his father and it wasn’t so much the muggleborns lack of magical family history it was their behavior. Always ignorant of how the wizarding world works and acting superior about it for some reason. And everyone they willingly associated with behaved this way. Irritatingly loud and endlessly obnoxious.

But Granger was different. She was more concerned with uncovering some ancient name in a dusty book than gossiping about muggle celebrities. Very refreshing.

“Draco there is something you need to know. Perhaps your mother should be here for this… no there isn’t time. I wanted to wait until you turned sixteen but it seems you attachment to Miss granger is a more pressing matter than I could have imagined. Time is short so allow me to give the details in brief summary. Years ago just after your birth we entered into an agreement with the Nott family that you would be wed to their young granddaughter.”

During this pause Lucius took a moment to pull a long sheet of crisp parchment from the top drawer of his desk and laid it down on top, resting his hands on top of it. Draco remained silent and incredibly stiff, dark dread sinking in and making him sick to his stomach.

“I had never met the child’s mother or father, yet I knew her mother was a Nott and her father a wizard from France. Call me rash but I had been seeking a strong alliance with the Nott’s and as they had only one granddaughter and one grandson available to choose from when you were born, revealing yourself to be well… male naturally we went with our only choice.”

When Lucius paused for a brief moment Draco was in absolute shock. Normally he would be able to hold off such a revealing reaction but there was simply no hiding how exactly truly upset he was in that moment.

“Now then we made a very advantageous contract with our friends the Nott’s. And then before the girl was even a year her mother took the girl and disappeared. We have searched for more than a decade but no sign of what happened to the two. As much as it pained your mother and me we had to look elsewhere for a suitable match. And you know how attached your mother is to the Greengrass girls. The older one, the one that is in your class, Daphne, was already in an alliance with the Zabini lot, yet not her younger sister Astoria.”

At this point Draco felt every bit of his blood drain from his face as the annoying girl’s sudden wish to talk with him became apparent.

“Please tell me you didn’t father….” Draco said quietly. It galled him to beg, he saw it as a sign of weakness but in this case he didn’t know what else he could do. His free will was being snapped before him as if it was an old rotted wand.

Lucius had given a brief hesitation before holding up a freshly drawn up contract. And Draco knew there were no more words he could give, the message had been delivered and received. Fighting for some sense of strength Draco held his shoulders back as he stood and gave his father a firm nod before turning to leave.

His farewell to his mother had been somber and short, neither discussing what they knew the other now knew. There wasn’t anything that could be said. And Draco left with the aid of Dobby their house-elf.

And now moments after taking the seat closest to the compartment door, easier for him to leave once the meeting had adjourned, Draco was still reeling in shock. Fighting to come to terms with all his parents had done… and Draco knew that deep down he shouldn’t have been surprised.

He had known about the arranged marriage between Blaise and Daphne, it was still even to this day a widely practiced custom for pureblood families. But Draco had always pushed the thought that it could happen to him to the far reaches of his mind. Perhaps even secretly hopped that he had escaped the ancient custom. He’d made it nearly sixteen years without even a hint that his future had been decided for him since his first breath.

Draco sighed and straightened his back from a slump as other prefects began to fill the large compartment. Vowing that he wouldn’t show any sign that he had just moments before learned his life was over before it even began.

\--Hermione found the prefects compartment just as the Hogwarts Express began to leave the station, leaving her muttering to herself as she slid the door closed before the stares of the other occupants made her pause awkwardly.

“Err... hello everyone… I’ll just be taking my seat then…” She said with a blush and took the nearest available seat next to Ron Weasley.

Seated across from her sat Draco, who couldn’t resist a light sarcastic jab, perhaps to lighten his own dark mood. “Good of you to join us Granger.”

Hermione returned with a sarcastic smile before rolling her eyes and shook her head at Ron’s questioning expression. It wouldn’t do to start a mild banter while the Head Boy and Girl were attempting to hold a meeting.

Crossing her arms and feigning interest in everything that was being discussed Hermione’s mind kept going back to her observation of the mysterious girl from the station platform. There was something about her that was so familiar and then something immensely exotic or foreign.

Hermione briefly switched her eyes to Draco. ‘I should ask if he thought to inquire how anyone in his family would be acquainted with such a person.’ Hermione thought. ‘More than likely it never crossed his mind. Honestly it seems I have to do all of the investigating.’ Hermione began to get herself worked up and when the Head Girl, a seventh year girl from Hufflepuff spoke her name she failed to answer.

This led to everyone in the compartment, including Malfoy himself catching Hermione in the act of apparently staring at the fifth year Slytherin prefect. It held no matter that her expression was a quizzical frown or that she was furiously tapping her wand on her knee, obviously deep in thought.

No, indeed the minds of Hogwarts elite were, while for some were quite accomplished, at the base of it all they were teenagers and naturally went right to the wrong yet most exciting conclusion. Hermione Granger was so completely infatuated with house rival Draco Malfoy, to the point of complete distraction!

It wasn’t until Hermione noticed the uncomfortable look Malfoy was giving her that Hermione stopped her tapping and hesitantly looked around, feeling her face flame as she saw every pair of eyes on her. Realization dawned as she quickly pieced together the situation and immediately wanted to sink into the floor.

Hermione could already hear the castle hallways echoing with rumors and curious looks.

So much for a fantastic start to a quiet fifth year.


	35. Buttered Cinnamon Scones

 

 

Avoiding the most dedicated gossips of Hogwarts was nearly the _most_ impossible thing Hermione had ever done. The only possible event that came to Hermione’s mind that could be even more impossible was avoiding a dentist visit with her parents. In her weekly post from her parents they never failed to mention her next cleaning.

Yet the chatty students of the famous wizarding school were giving her oral care dedicated parents a run for top of the list. Hermione didn’t know how word left the prefects compartment so quickly but it seemed that the moment she darted out, within seconds of the meeting disbanding, all eyes were on her. Every word muttered was about her staring at Draco Malfoy.

Now Hermione liked to think of herself as fearless. In many cases she was. Taking on impossible mountains of homework and extra lessons or coming face to face with a werewolf on a full moon, she knew she had the steel in her backbone to take on anything. It was only when it came to dealing with social embarrassment, did Hermione falter.

Already a school pariah for her knowledgeable ways, her need to raise her hand for every question, and her dislike of the fierce competiveness of Quidditch, she was not high on the popularity ladder. Not to say she didn’t have friends, since she considered many students in her house, year and even a few in other houses, to be her friends, she was more of the girl you go to when you slept through transfiguration and needed notes. Not when you wanted to discuss anything of a social nature.

As a young witch who had never gotten herself into a situation where she was ever under scrutiny for something harmless but scandalous non the less, Hermione could feel every set of eyes on her as she shirked her prefect duties and hid in the same compartment as Harry, Neville, and Ginny.

The small group was laughing and joking as Ginny handed out handfuls of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavored Beans. Apparently Harry had just eaten a bean that tasted like worms and the hysterical laughs were at his expense.

The logical side of Hermione’s mind knew they couldn’t possibly know already what had happened moments before on the other end of the train, but the small illogical part of her couldn’t help the cringe as she huffed onto the seat next to Neville.

“Wots wrong H’myne?” Harry asked with a full mouth and laughter.

Hermione shrugged and quickly glanced up as the compartment door slid opened then shrank into her seat and looked at her knees as Ron stepped inside, taking the spot across from her.

“Ron! Hullo! Take a handful.” Ginny shoved some of her assorted beans to her older brother.

Hermione knew why Ginny was in the compartment with the older students. She’s had an eye for the black haired Harry Potter for a very long time. Harry of course was too thick to see it even with his glasses.

Ron ignored his younger sister and continued to stare across at Hermione. Hermione herself avoided his gaze and hunched her shoulders. By now the other compartment occupants had noticed a certain amount of tension between the two and the curiosity showed on their sugar stained faces.

“Want to tell me what that was all about eh Hermione?” Ron asked with a perfectly serious expression. His voice had drawn everyone’s eyes to him but now they swung back to Hermione, wide and questioning.

Hermione gave an uncomfortable shift and a small shake of her head, still avoiding her friend’s eyes. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean Ron.”

Ron rolled his eyes. “Oh come off it Mione. I want to know why you were-“

Hermione’s brown eyes flashed as she finally looked at Ron with a glare, cutting him off. “First off Ron, it’s none of your business. Second it wasn’t what you or anyone else are clearly thinking.” At this point Hermione felt some of her irritated fire leave only to be replaced by embarrassment. “Not by a long shot.”

“But they are thinking it. So if it’s so innocent then why don’t you just tell-“

“Ron!” Hermione said sharply. “Drop it please.” And just to make sure he got the point Hermione quickly pulled a book from her bag and held it up, blocking everyone’s line of sight from her reddened cheeks.

“This isn’t over Hermione… and it’s only going to get worse if you ignore the situation.” Ron finished quietly before engaging his other friends in conversation. Agreeing enthusiastically with Neville, to put as many of the oddly flavored beans in his mouth as possible.

His last comment caused Hermione to wince. It was extremely uncommon to hear something so sensible come from the train wreck that is Ron’s unfiltered mouth, but this time she knew he was right. That however didn’t give her the bravery she needed to confront her little scandal. It was truly harmless right?

\--The first day of fifth year wasn’t too terrible. _If_ you discounted all the stares and whispering that was going on behind hands. The amount of girls that were glaring and the boys that were leering was hard to miss. At first Hermione hadn’t noticed the looks, and she had managed to tune out the questions from her dorm mates, instead bringing up Ron whenever Lavender tried to edge out some gossip about Hermione’s stare down with the Malfoy boy. It was very effective.

Hermione had nearly made it through her entire first day without incident, believing that the gossip had already run its course. That is until she was leaving her final class of the day.

As she walked into the hallway, distracted by shoving her homework journal into her bag, she stumbled into another girl. Startled, Hermione immediately began to make her apologies.

“Oh! Excuse me! Did I injure you?” Hermione said with her eyes concerned.

The girl in front of her, Hermione did not know well but she knew enough to recall her name from the occasional classes they had had together over the years and prefect meetings. Pansy Parkinson.

“Watch it Granger!” Pansy snapped as she straitened her Slytherin robes and made sure her prefect badge was still pinned.

Hermione was taken aback by the other girl’s hostility. “I didn’t mean you any harm…”

“Didn’t mean me any harm? You must truly be pathetic. And if you honestly believe Draco would ever fall for someone like you, then you are even lower than pathetic!” The shorter witch said with an almost feral growl.

Hermione was left in absolute silent shock for a moment as she watched clearly delusional witch float away with angry stomps.

“Oh honestly! If you believe that I would even _want_ someone like Draco Malfoy then you have lost all sense! You hear that Parkinson? No sense. At. All!” Hermione yelled at the retreating back, a heavy breathing in her shoulders as she felt indignant adrenalin warm her blood. “No sense-“

“Really Granger. Is it typical muggle behavior to holler through hallways or are you just incredibly rude.” An inquiring voice spoke from just behind her, causing Hermione’s breathing to freeze as she squeezed her eyes shut. Suddenly every bit of gossip and all the nasty glares she had come across since entering the Great Hall that morning clicked in her mind.

“Malfoy.” Hermione greeted as she turned to face the newcomer, doing her best to fight her blush. Standing with him were his fellow Slytherins Theo Nott and Blaise Zabini. “Nott, Zabini.” Hermione continued with a stiff nod. Theo stood with a bored but watchful expression, and Blaise had a sly grin and answered Hermione with a wink.

Hermione straightened her shoulders. “Now if you will excuse me…”

Draco however was feeling quite insulted at Hermione’s hallway rant. “You’d be quite lucky to catch a wizard like me, Granger.” He said as he brushed a speck off his robed shoulder, his friends sharing a look that said they’ve heard Draco mention his wonderfulness before, possibly many times.

Hermione was once again speechless. Rather than attempt to say anything insulting to defend her stance she continued to stare at Draco, unblinking, for a long uncomfortable moment.

Draco feeling very confused, turned slightly and gave a questioning look at his friends to which they both answered with equally confused shrugs.

Finally Hermione gave a sarcastic “Indeed….” Turning to leave the mucked up situation before things got worse. “I’m just going…to do… yes.”

Draco was certain he would have willingly paid money to know what the brown haired witch had been thinking. Was she embarrassed to have been caught staring at him? And why had she been… not that he’d ever admit it to her or anyone else but once he had noticed her attention locked on him his had been locked onto her. It was only when everyone else had noticed did he begin to get uncomfortable.

He did not need word of this reaching his father but he feared that there was little he could do to keep his father’s lackeys from reporting his every move.

And it just wasn’t in him to allow Granger to get the last word in. She has put him in an awkward situation what with the marriage contract weighing on him and she may not know about it but he deserved some bit of satisfaction. After all he was the one who would have to clean up her mess.

“Oh and Granger…” Draco spoke before she could leave. “I’ve had a missive from Dumbledore. He said that since I enjoyed _The Great Phoenix War_ so much that I was welcome to keep it.”

Hermione slowly turned back to face the trio. All embarrassment forgotten, replaced with hostility. “Malfoy…”

Draco stepped close to Hermione and said in a low voice. “You really want that book don’t you?”

“I _need_ that book Malfoy.” Hermione said with a feral glint as she glared up at Draco. She tried to ignore the scent of ink and possibly buttered cinnamon scones, and the fact that Draco was standing close enough that she could feel the brush of his uniform robes.

Draco gave a contemplative grin. “Good to know.” And with hands in his pockets he led the way has he and his friends departed. Hermione watched with narrow eyes for a moment until her stomach gave her a hungry reminder that she was missing dinner.

With a stomp of a foot Hermione followed the trio of Slytherins quickly, muttering an “I’m not following you, the Great Hall is this way,” when the three looked over their shoulders to watch her pass with a hurried stride.

Draco hid his admiration on the bounce of her nut brown hair by muttering a snarky comment about it to his friends. Relieved when they laughed along with him, and doing his best to ignor the way she stiffened her shoulders at his comment.

\--Hermione’s dinner was spent chewing angrily and watching the Slytherins with a narrow eyed glare.

“Alright tell me what is going on with you and Malfoy.” Ginny said from beside her as she spread butter onto a warm slice of fresh baked bread.

Hermione either ignored her or didn’t even hear her friend. Ginny rolled her eyes and slammed her knife on the table.

“Oi! Granger!”

“Yes Ginny, what is it!” Hermione exclaimed slamming her soup spoon down as well.

“If you don’t answer me I will make an even bigger scene than I already am.”

Hermione quickly glanced around and noticed the many pairs of eyes watching them, and swung back to face Ginny.

“Fine! What was it you wanted to know…?” She said in a low voice.

“Everything!” Ginny said, waving her hands around.

“Alright... Alright! Just stop it. I’ve had my fill of being gossiped about for a lifetime.” She paused and took a deep breath, “Alright. During the prefect meeting I was thinking about that witch. You remember the one from last winter? The one who-“

“Yes, yes the one who popped in and out all mysterious like. Get on with it.” Ginny interrupted impatiently.

“Well she was at the platform yesterday, speaking with Fred-“

“What!?” Ginny interrupted again, turning gleeful eyes toward one half of her favorite pair of brothers. He was several seats down with George and Lee, making movements that suggested he was talking about being a beater and playing Quidditch. She loved her fun loving brother dearly and the thought that a girl…

“Not the point Ginny, pay attention. I only want to say these… words once.” Hermione said with a shiver.

“Fine, fine, get on with it.”

“Well mystery witch disappears again. Then I’m in the prefect meeting thinking about how she could have anything to do with the Black family, which led to me thinking about how Malfoy probably hasn’t done anything in trying to find out who she is and what she has to do with _his_ family.” Hermione finished with a let out breath as she turned back to her plate.

Ginny stared at her for a moment, her mouth open before shaking her head. “And?”

“And what?”

Ginny picked up a steamed carrot and threw it at Hermione, hitting her in the chin.

“Hey! What was that for?” Hermione cried out as she reached for a napkin.

“Do you think I’m stupid? I _know_ there’s more to it…”

Hermione sighed, defeated. “Alright, you’re…. Right there is more.” With a cringe Hermione decided to just get it over with, exhausted from pretending the whole ordeal never happened. “So… as I was mentally ranting at Malfoy for failing to take the initiative and do some research on the mysterious witch I happened to be staring… in his direction. And I didn’t even realize it when someone asked me a question and I didn’t answer. But it was because I was thinking of that girl _not_ because I was gazing at Malfoy. But now everyone seems to believe that I fancy that- that gruesome ferret face prat!” Hermione finished her whispered rant, breathing heavily.

Ginny began with an astonished “Wow.” Only to be cut off as the fiery eyed witch continued.

“And then Pansy Parkinson! You know the Slytherin girl that once tried to get Seamus in trouble for blowing up her silver quill?” Without waiting for Ginny’s nod she continued. “Well I happened to bump into her on my way here. Literally bump into her, and she had to audacity to say that I was pathetic for thinking I had a chance with Malfoy.” Hermione sat back with an indignant hand on her chest. “Me! As if I would want anything to do with him. I’m pathetic? Please.”

Ginny was astonished. Sure she had seen her friend fired up and passionate about many things but never like this. “So… it’s not true what everyone has been saying? You and Malfoy are not passionate lovers?”

Hermione gaped at Ginny.

Ginny’s serious face broke into peals of laughter that had eyes turning, including a certain Potter.

Hermione at first glared and then finding the laughter infectious gave a small laugh. “This is ridiculous. I’ve never glared so many times in one day!”

Ginny’s laughter died down and she gave Hermione a serious look. “Really Hermione, I’ve never seen you like this about anything. Not even S.P.E.W. Why is this bothering you so much? It’s only bored idiots gossiping. It’ll turn into something else once someone else does something embarrassing.”

Hermione sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. “I know! But then again I’ve never found myself in this situation before. Here let’s head up to the tower.” Hermione suggested as she noticed many students leaving, their stomachs sated for the time being.

Nodding that she was done as well Ginny joined Hermione as she stood and they slowly walked out, their heads bent together as Hermione went into detail of what was bothering her.

“I thought surely no one would care about something so trivial! And I honestly had no idea how to handle the situation. Sure Malfoy might be an alright sort but-“

“Wait wait wait. An alright sort? Mione he’s bloody gorgeous!”

“Really Ginny!”

“What! I can admit that someone looks fit. Even if he’s a snob, his father treats my father horribly and probably has no idea how to tie his own shoes. He has money for that.”

Hermione somehow kept her footing as she stared at Ginny before giving a chuckle. “Honestly what would your mum say…”

Ginny smirked, “Mum would never admit it out loud but she would agree.”

Hermione shook her head with a small smile, feeling better about everything already.

Ginny turned contemplative. “Now what are we going to do about your reputation? Let’s see we have three options. You can become a recluse, only leaving the dorm for classes and eating, which by the way is _not_ an option, I shouldn’t have mentioned it.” Ginny was sure to say fiercely when she saw Hermione’s eyes light up. “Second you can go on the offensive and aggressively pursue Draco Malfoy, confirming everyone’s thoughts and making him very uncomfortable with all the attention. Or third you can squash the rumors by beginning a relationship with someone even better than a Malfoy.”

“Ginny… I don’t want to do either of those. Besides the point that they are terribly cliché, it’s deceitful. Honestly people could get hurt.”

Before Ginny could defend her suggestions Hermione and Ginny had to squeeze through a small group of mingling students, a mixture of the four houses as they huddled around a parchment announcement. Hermione wanted to get a look at it but the small group stopped their excited chatter and all eyes turned toward the pair. A few were curious and amused but more were frowning and suspicious. Hermione quickly glanced at Ginny and rolled her eyes before pushing her way through the crowd.

“Unbelievable… you’d think I cast an unforgivable curse on Malfoy instead of just stared at him… Do that many people really like him?”

Ginny shrugged as she loosened her Gryffindor tie. “He is rather popular. Rich, handsome, excellent at Quidditch even though the rumor is that he at first wasn’t going to be considered for seeker but then his father bought the team new brooms.”

Hermione looked properly appalled and Ginny for some reason leapt to defend him. “It’s only a rumor though! And the point is that even if that were true, he turned out to be a fantastic player. I know you avoid the games as much as possible but not many people can rile Harry up you know that. So much like his father. Would rather laugh than be angry but there you have it.”

“Ginny! Focus please!”

Ginny grinned. “Sorry. But when you have it all like he does… people like him even if they don’t know him. What’s he like in class?”

Hermione stopped at the top of a stair case and thought. “Well… I suppose he’s a good student. Otherwise he wouldn’t have made prefect. Does very well at his demonstrations. A good letter writer… um from what I’ve seen in class that is… He was quite rude to Astoria Greengrass once. And I’ve had a heated discussion with him a time or two.”

“So not too bad. So why don’t you fancy him?”

“Ginny!”

“What! Sword of might” Ginny muttered as she gave the password to the portrait.

Hermione stepped through the doorway and making sure no one was within hearing distance whispered harshly, “You can’t go about asking those kinds of questions… putting me on the spot like that.”

Ginny looked lost for a moment. “How is it putting you on the spot… unless…” Surprise spread across her face. “Hermione!”

“What? No! Of course not. It’s just…”

Ginny grabbed Hermione by the elbow and pulled her over to the fire place and pushed her into the corner. “Hermione if you know what’s good for you, you will tell me.”

Hermione looked down at her shoes. “He smells nice.” She muttered.

“Excuse me?” Ginny leaned in.

Hermione sighed and leaned back against the wall. “Ginny I’m a mess. Last year I started having these bizarre visions. Not daydreams but more like memories. And many of them had _him_ in them. He… he did and said truly awful things in the visions. So when I think of how the real _him_ actually seems to be, I’m almost amazed. Yes he’s rude and arrogant but today while he was busy doing both of those towards me he was standing close.” Hermione paused and swallowed as she met Ginny’s eyes. “ _Very_ close. And as he was busy being a prat all I think of was how he smelled. Ink and buttered cinnamon scones in case you were wondering…”

Ginny shook her head. “Any idea why he was doing this?”

“Because of Pansy. I was shouting after her, denying how pathetic she thought I was. I know, believe me I know. But she was being awful! And in this shouting I wasn’t speaking too kindly about Malfoy and that’s what he happened to hear.”

With a sigh Ginny gave Hermione a pat on the arm. “You are clearly at risk of falling in love with him Hermion –ah ah ah, I am the expert and you are even less than a novice in the ways of how these things work. You may be able to recite the basic fundamentals for all forms of magic but this is my area of expertise and you have all the signs. That leaves us with only one choice. You have to start a relationship with someone even better!”

“Ginny we’ve already been over this. I won’t be so deceitful!”

“You aren’t doing this now for payback. You are doing this to prevent the worst mistake of your life Hermione! Don’t get me wrong I love you dearly but you and the prince of purebloods? His family alone not to mention that whole branch of upper cut society would destroy you!”

“Are you saying that his family would believe I’m not good enough for him? I know that the relations between purebloods and muggleborns are strained but they could be much worse. Sure they don’t hold with…Ugh what am I saying? Why am I fighting with you over this…?”

Hermione drew a deep breath and closed her eyes. “I am not at risk of _falling_ for him and I refuse to pull some innocent boy into this mess. I appreciate your wish to help Ginny but this conversation is over. I want to make sure Harry and Ron did their Charms reading.”

Ginny rolled her eyes as Hermione brushed by to go get her two friends into order. She admired the fight in the marginally older witch but she knew Hermione was wrong. But her friend was stubborn and Ginny knew all she could was sit back and enjoy the show Hermione was going to put on and be there for her when everything inevitably fell apart.

 


	36. Betting on Love

 

 

The excited murmur of excited student voices filled the Charms classroom as Professor Flitwick struggled to call for quiet.

“Students, please! Excuse me young wizards and witches!” The small professor struggled, his hands waving.

For once Hermione ignored one of her favorite professors as she turned toward Harry, her eyes full of delight.

“Harry! Tell me you’ll be my partner! Together we will do a fantastic term report and win a personal tour through the Ministry _with_ the Minister himself! Oh I just _know_ I could get so much more done if I could speak with him personally.”

Harry cringed and sought out a suitable excuse for saying no to Hermione. He adored her and considered as close as a sister but the thought of partnering with her on anything other than a game of Wizards Chess, frankly put, frightened him. Yet saying “no” to her frightened him even more.

Harry quickly looked to his other side to seek help from Ron but he found one of his best friends pointedly looking away from the two. Harry grit his teeth behind an apologetic smile as he looked back toward Hermione who was waiting expectantly.

“Err Hermione…. Here’s the thing-“

“Students, that is enough!” Flitwick said as loudly as he could, finally grabbing the attention of his pupils one by one. When at last the entire class had turned back to face their teacher he cleared his throat. “Ahem. Now then, as I was saying. Each student will be paired with another one, chosen by my mallowsweet tree here.” Flitwick paused to gesture to the small potted tree with several golden leaves mixed in with the usual dark green leaves, situated next to his podium while the sound of disgruntled groans rose up from the room of Gryffindors and Slytherins.

Both sides just knew what that meant.

“Now then none of that. I charmed this tree myself. And to whoever can tell me which charm _or charms_ I used, you can choose your leaf, revealing your project partner, first. Anyone?”

And to no one’s surprise Hermione’s hand flew first into the air, bringing an amused smile to Harry and an eye roll to everyone else.

Professor Flitwick gave a please smile, perhaps even a bit excited. “Hermione! Go ahead then.”

Hermione folded her hands together and with her back straight launched her explanation. “First you would have begun by charming each of our names to one of the leaves, the gold ones, charming them with _Colovaria_ to a special color so that we would know which leaves to select from. I imagine you’d hardly want us to pick the tree clean in attempting to select a partner.” At this point Hermione paused for a breath before beginning again. “Then the names would need to be concealed otherwise that would defeat the purpose of a draw. Then after that I suspect that once we have picked the leaf from the tree, we then would use the reveal charm in order to see the name of our chosen partner. And if it were me I would have added a final bit of magic so that the tree would regrow its now missing leaf. Would you like me to cast that for you if you didn’t do it professor? These charms might have been a bit difficult for the more novice students but I assure you I’ve got this well in hand.” Hermione finished with an expectant look, ignoring Draco’s mutters about going a bit far even for a know it all, getting a rise of chuckles from several of the other students.

Professor Flitwick however was quite used to Hermione’s overly helpful explanations and offers. And if he were truthful he had indeed forgotten to add the regrowth charm. Flitwick quickly hid his wand behind his podium and muttered the missing charm quickly.

“Err that’s quite alright Hermione. Five points to Gryffindor by the way for that through explanation. Come on then and pick your partner.”

Hermione gave a pleased smile and quickly made her way to the front of the classroom and reached out for a golden leaf.

While Hermione was occupied choosing her leaf professor Flitwick gave a sly goblin smile and gave his wand a secret flick. He quickly erased his smile when Hermione’s light gasp reached his ears and he reached for the leaf. Without looking at the waiting students Hermione quickly handed the professor her partners name and quickly took her seat beside Harry and stared straight forward, her fists clenched in her skirts.

“Ah Hermione is paired with Draco Malfoy. I expect an excellent presentation from you both. Now then who would like to go next?”

Hermione struggled to tune out the whispers and looks as month old gossip rekindled and reared its ugly head once more.

“Mione, you alright?” Ron whispered around Harry, both young wizards were looking at their friend in concern.

Hermione grit her teeth and put on a fake smile before looking at Ron and Harry. “Of course I’m alright Ron. I’m ever so pleased to be at the center of everyone’s righteous attention and at the thought of having to spend endless hours with a cold unfeeling ferret. I’m overjoyed.”

Ron grimaced and held his hands up in defeat. “Alright, sarcasm then.”

“Perhaps Flitwick will allow you to switch if you tell him how much you and Malfoy don’t get along.” Harry piped in.

Hermione considered thoughtfully before nodding. “It’s worth a try. I’ll talk with him after class.” Already feeling better at the thought of Flitwick allowing her to switch partners Hermione watched the rest of the partner drawing with a content smile, which to those not on the inside saw this as a Hermione who was in fact pleased with her partner.

Draco on the other hand was a riot of emotions. He was pleased. Hermione’s mind was excellent and while he suspected she might be nightmarishly controlling over the project he couldn’t deny the thought of having an excuse to spend a few moments with her. He was nervous as well. Almost frightened of what his father would say. What his mother would say. Already thinking of the letter he would need to write in order to iron out the situation.

Hearing Blaize attempting poorly to hide his laughter Draco put on the appropriate look of disgust and anger. “Shut it Zabini.” Draco whispered harshly.

This only resulted in Blaize giving up the fight and laying his head on the table with his arms wrapped around his head, shaking with laughter. Draco sighed and slouched in his seat and laid his head to rest over the top of the back of his chair and stared at the ceiling. Feeling his initial excitement of the chance to be around Hermione wear off as he began to realize that the nightmare wasn’t going to be her at all.

All the work she was going to have them do wasn’t going to be a scratch of what his friends and family were going to put him through. Brilliant or not she was still a muggleborn Gryffindor who more than likely came from a lower class bottom of the ladder family. And in the world of purebloods and nobility that was simply too much to deal with.

Draco felt the weight of his position and status weighing on him more than ever. And felt angry. Rather than listening to the words of excitement or the groans of disappointment coming from the other students he began an inner rant at the forces that seemed to be working against him.

‘I’m not even sixteen yet by the Gods! I shouldn’t have to worry about offending my family or my disgustingly polite bride-to-be. I shouldn’t even _have_ a fiancé. I should be more worried about Quidditch and pulling pranks on McGonagall. I just want to be…’ Draco slightly looked toward his partner with her hair in a wild riot and her contemplative smile and he felt his own smile start.

\--“Ehem. Professor, might I speak with you? This will only take a moment.” Hermione stood behind Professor Flitwick as the other students filed from the room, only Harry and Ron remained by the door as they waited on their friend.

“Hermione! Yes, go on.” Flitwick turned to one of his favorite students. He already knew what she was going to say but knew he had to let her say it anyways.

“Sir I mean absolutely no disrespect, but is there any way at all I can perhaps switch partners with someone who’s not so… disagreeable?” Hermione asked with her eyes wide and pleading.

Flitwick put on his most sincerely apologetic expression and gave Hermione’s hand a pat. “I wish that were an option but it simply wouldn’t be fair. If I were to allow you to change partners then it would be expected that everyone can change and defeats the purpose of the draw. Now off you go, you mustn’t be late to your next class.” And he shooed a frustrated and disappointed Hermione out, all of her carefully chosen reasons for not wanting Malfoy as a partner had to be swallowed and she led the way from the room.

Flitwick shook his head and chuckled in delight. The students must never know that he and the other teachers paid very close attention to the schools happenings and the thought of a budding relationship between their brightest witch and the only other wizard that could even begin to match her wits had them all in a titter. To say even perhaps a bet was going on and Flitwick himself had a few galleons on the two overcoming their differences, therefore it was only natural that he would help them along. A little harmless name charm on an already selected leaf would do just the trick.

Flitwick sat with his hands tapping his thighs in excitement. Yes, he was certain that a little push was all the stubborn pair required.

 

\--Harry and Ron knew that Hermione would be in a mood for the rest of the day now that her only chance of getting a not so prattish partner had been dashed. And if the way her clenched fists were swinging and the way other students took one look at her and jumped out of the way it meant she was seriously out for blood. The two shared a look and silently agreed that they probably shouldn’t mention the entire situation.

“Ron!” Hermione said sharply, stopping her stride abruptly.

“Uh y-yes Hermione?” Ron said nervously, glancing around for a quick exit if he needed it.

“Where’s my potions book that I lent you this morning?” She demanded with fire in her eyes.

Ron swallowed and looked at Harry for help. “O-one moment Hermione let me look for it…” and he quickly began to look through his book bag, already knowing that he had forgotten it. After a moment of searching for no reason other than to delay the inevitable firestorm he was fixing to let loose he looked up from his bag with frightened regret on his face. “It- it seems that I’ve forgotten it in the common room...”

Hermione narrowed her eyes. “I lent you that because you left _yours_ behind in Professor Snape’s classroom! Now I have to go all the way back to our common room and hope that it hasn’t been damaged by your brothers for a prank! You irresponsible little-“

“Hermione how about you go on and take my potions book to class and Ron and I will go find your book which I’m sure he is very sorry for forgetting.” Harry looked at Ron as he tried to find peace between his friends. He knew Hermione was only upset and was lashing out at the easiest target and unfortunately for himself, Ron made it very easy to be that target.

Hermione’s glare eased slightly. “Are you sure Harry? You’ll both be late and Professor Snape is already hard on you.” She sighed before he could answer. “No I don’t wish you to get in any trouble on mine and Ron’s account. I could use the walk to cool off anyway.”

Harry gave Hermione a fast hug and pulled Ron to follow him, Ron’s shoulder hunched in defense in case Hermione decided to get physical as he passed her. Hermione took a moment to push her fingers through her hair and breathed deeply searching for calm.

Her plan to simply ignore Draco, anyone associated with him, and anyone that felt brave enough to voice their opinion on their supposed suitability or the lack of it that is, had been working. She had been successful in not thinking of him, not looking at him, and especially not having any contact with him what so ever.

And things had begun to get better. Random girls no longer made a fuss every time she walked by and random boys no longer made jokes at her expense. For a while she had been plagued with rude gestures and obscene noises typical for students of the lower immaturity level.

It hadn’t been easy for her to do either. Has anyone ever truly tried to not think of something or in this case someone? Much more difficult than it ought to be.

Hermione dropped her hands from her hair and started the long trek to find her potions book. She knew that Professor Snape would have had an extra but she needed the excuse to not be around the others for the moment. Hermione knew she would get past her frustration but she deserved a short time to have freedom to be angry.

\--Hermione was slowly making her way to the potions classroom in the dungeon once she had successfully retrieved her potions book, thankfully unpranked, promising her possession that she would never lend anything to Ron ever again.

She had paused briefly at an alcove and was enjoying the sunny view of the Black Lake and considered simply skipping the class altogether but she knew that wasn’t an option in the end. A small bit of hiding was acceptable but hiding altogether was the worst way to handle the situation.

“Hermione Granger, shouldn’t you be in Potions?” an amused voice said from behind the lost in thought witch.

At the sound of the voice Hermione spun around with a pleased smile “Stephen Black shouldn’t _you_ be in Potions?”

Before her stood a delightful Hufflepuff in her own year named Stephen Alphard Black, who stood tall with long dark hair and bright blue eyes that always seemed to be smiling. Hermione didn’t know him well but the times that they had spoken had been full of kindness and silly stories about his father Sirius and Harry’s father James. Stephen could usually be found with Harry and Ron on the weekends or at Hogsmead starting a snowball fight. Always with them when Hermione was busy studying or volunteering her tutoring services to the younger students.

Stephen shrugged sheepishly and gestured for her to join him. “I have a perfectly legitimate reason. A reason that is sure to excuse any threat Snape has ready to throw at me. Better than your excuse I bet.”

Hermione accepted his silent invitation, joining his side she rolled her eyes. “Hardly. My excuse is that I left my potions book in the common room.”

Stephen arched a dark brow. “You forgot a book? You honestly believe that Snape will believe that?”

Hermione sighed and shrugged. “Well honestly Ron forgot it but I wanted the time to think and… to simmer down a bit before suffering through a room full of students whispering about me. What’s your excuse?”

Stephen cleared his throat uncomfortably and rubbed the back of his neck. “Well you see… I was hoping you had an idea? I don’t think hearing that Rosalinda needed directions to the divination tower would win me any house points.”

Hermione stifled a snort of shocked laughter. “I’m sure. Let’s see. Professor Snape is incredibly shrewd so you best keep as close to the truth as possible.”

“I can’t do that! Especially when the truth is we detoured to a broom closet… I hadn’t realized how much time had passed while we-”

“Ack! I don’t need to hear anymore. You’re right though. Best put on your best “poker face” and lie till your pants are on fire! Now I bid you good luck!” Hermione teased as she swung the potions classroom door open, a wide smile lit up her face when Stephen, red-faced and full of dread entered to a room full of curious onlookers and a very stern faced professor.

“How perfectly spectacular of Mr. Black and Miss… Granger, to join us. Ten points deducted from both houses- No Black I’m not interested in whatever supposed excuse you have. Take your seats and begin the assignment written on the board. And Granger, see me after class.” Severus said with barely a glance at the two delinquent students. Rather instead he had his attention focused on an interesting bit of unexpected news from an old friend. Well acquaintance was more like it. Actually he wasn’t quite sure why he had received the correspondence at all. It was almost as confounding as the letter he had received from Lucius the morning before.

Hermione gave Stephen a quick grin as he hung his head and joined a table of quietly giggling Hufflpuffs while Hermione took her usual place beside Harry and Ron. “Now Harry if that had been you, you would have had detention for a month.” She whispered.

Harry knew he was right. He didn’t know why but Professor Snape had always treated him with barely restrained contempt. As far as he knew he had never done anything to make himself so dislikeable. Harry was broken from his pondering of Snape’s treatment of himself when Hermione smacked herself on the forehead with her hand.

Ron gave a yelp at the action, clearly on edge ever since he had been on the receiving end of Hermione’s anger, and quickly glanced at Snape sighing in relief that he was still occupied by whatever occupies grumpy professors.

“Alright there Hermione?” He asked with caution in a low voice.

“I was with Stephen! He’s a Black! I could have asked him about that girl and her connection to the Blacks! Why didn’t I think of it sooner?” Hermione whispered back with her eyes wide.

Ron rolled his eyes already forgetting the danger his life had been in just a short time ago. “Come off it already Hermione. The girl was obviously nutters. No offense to Stephen but throwing the Black name around is almost as crazy as that whole lot is.”

“Oi! No offense taken!” Stephen fake whispered across the classroom, eliciting several chuckles from students close enough to hear.

“That will do. If everyone has time to disrupt the class then you must be done with the assignment and ready for the quiz.” Snape drawled as he stood from his desk and waved his wand, closing every student’s book and ignoring the few quiet groans that could be heard.

Stephen and Hermione shared a pained look as they were now receiving glares from all the other students.

\--“Miss Granger do you know why I have requested your presence after class?” Severus asked from his seated position at his desk.

Hermione clasped her hands behind her back and with a straight back answered confidently. “Because I was uncharastically late to class… sir.”

“If it happens again you will receive detention. But no there is another reason.” Severus interlaced his fingers on this desk, his expression perhaps even more serious than it usually. “A bit of disturbing news has reached me and I must warn you that if it is true… well to say the least you better hope that it is not true.”

Hermione began to feel anxious and twisted her hands behind her back. “What ‘news’ is that sir?”

Severus narrowed his eyes. “That you have begun to seek the attentions of my Godson.”

Hermione was silently at a loss of words for a brief moment as she struggled to comprehend his comment. “Professor Sir… am I to believe that you have nothing better to do than follow the gossip from shallow minds?”

Severus ignored the bite in her tone and stood from his desk and walked to a slotted cabinet in the corner of his classroom and retrieved a small roll of parchment. He did not hand it to the witch but he did show her the seal pressed into the red wax. “Do you recognize this seal Miss Granger?”

Hermione looked down and to the side. She did know. It was the same seal that had been on the letters she had received from Dr- Malfoy over the summer.

“I see that you do. I received this letter yesterday morning. I’m sure I no longer need to go into detail on its contents. I will however give you a warning. It is in your best interest to keep your… connection to the young Mr. Malfoy on a purely academic level.”

Hermione was getting very tired of everyone’s ill opinions and advice. Their constant interfering when there wasn’t anything to interfere in. But one thing about Hermione, she might be passionate about many things but she also had a solid control on her will when it came to dealing with authority.

“Purely academic. Will that be all sir?” Hermione said with a blank face.

Severus nodded and Hermione swept from the classroom with her head held high. Severus sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose wondering why it was always him having to sort out the lives of others. If it wasn’t for the promise that he had made to someone five years ago…

\--That evening Draco sat at the writing desk in his dorm room. Freshly bathed after a rigorous Quidditch training he had just put away his last bit of homework and now he sat there staring at the portrait of old wizards of centuries past gathered around a table covered in candles and scrolls.

He knew what he had to do next but the thought of writing a letter to his parents excusing every aspect of his life left a terrible taste in his mouth. With a sigh he dipped his quill in ink and began to write.

_Father and Mother_

_I’m sure word has already reached you about the events of today. For a project in Charms and by no encouragement of my own I was given Hermione Granger as a partner. Before you start calling for people to be removed from the school please stop. Already Granger is under constant scrutiny for baseless rumors-_

Draco groaned and wadded up the half written letter and tossed it into the small dorm fireplace. He slipped on his Slytherin sweater after standing and headed for the hallway, ignoring a yell from Blaize asking where he was going and brushing past Theo with a nod. Draco wanted to leave the Slytherin common room without any interference yet once he saw Pansy and Daphne headed his way he knew he’d have to fight his way out.

“Look before either of you start you know that it is none of your concern and now step aside.” Draco said with a thinly veiled threat in his voice. He was in no mood to tolerate their opinions and comments.

Daphne folded her arms and scowled darkly. “None of my concern? You’re _engaged_ to my sister. And the fact that you will be hanging around that mudblood will not please my parents. They are already threatening to change the terms of the contract over that little display Granger put on at the beginning of the year.”

Draco clenched his fists at the use of her slur and grit his teeth in frustration. ‘Why are these people so dense?’ he wondered and without another word he pushed by the two witches, ignoring their angry gasps and left the dungeons. Shoving his fists into the pockets of his slacks he quickly made his way to the library.

One thing he knew about Hermione Granger was that she would be there. And true enough she was. He had to search every nook but he found her at last seated in the farthest reaches of the library with a stack of books, parchments, and quills. Her face hidden by the large book she hardly looked strong enough to hold, all he could see was her wild hair and slim, ink stained fingers. Draco couldn’t deny the leap his stomach took and the dampness of his palms still hidden in his pockets.

Draco cleared his throat, schooling his expression to one of annoyed boredom when Hermione peeked over the top of her book.

Hermione rolled her eyes and dropped the book down onto the table top with a loud thump. Her sigh clearly spoke of her own annoyances and she waved a hand to the seat opposite herself.

“Fine Malfoy take a seat.”

 

 

 

 

 


	37. How to Manage a Malfoy

 

 

“No absolutely not. That is a terrible idea for a presentation. Do you want us to fail?” Hermione said with a scoff in her voice. “Professor Flitwick is not going to be impressed by how to charm musical instruments.”

Draco rubbed a sore temple as Hermione marked through yet another idea for their project. They had begun the evening before when he had joined her in the library, each coming up with ideas and finding reasons why it was the most ridiculous idea that had ever been thought. Hermione was excellent at that he found within the first three minutes of sitting with her. Now they were at again the next evening, same desk, seated across from each other, still no idea what they were going to be researching.

“Granger please, I am asking politely for the love of Merlin, pick a bloody topic then. We won’t have the _time_ to do a decent job if you keep finding reasons not to do my ideas.” Draco narrowed his ice blue eyes and leaned forward slightly. “And for your information my instrument idea was brilliant.”

Hermione narrowed her own eyes. “Hardly. The charms for having an instrument play are so easy even Ron could manage to get one to work.”

Draco opened his mouth to defend his idea again, the thought that a Weasley could manage to charm a grand piano to play the complexity of Franz Liszt was absolute madness. However Draco was given pause when he watched something amazing happen. Hermione’s eyes widened and turned a bright brown, excitement clearly written across her face. All traces of stubbornness and venom were erased only to be replaced by a look of pure joy and happiness, her hands suddenly searching through the books scattered around the table. And Draco was speechless.

“I’ve got it! Time, Malfoy, time!”

Draco arched a quizzical brow. “Pardon?”

Hermione found the book she had been searching for and held it up for Draco to see.

“’A Brief History of Time’. I’m sorry but what does the history of time have to do with a charms project.”

Hermione straightened her shoulders and entered into explanation mode. “Well normally it wouldn’t. This is actually an expanded edition of the original book written almost a decade ago, and in the added content this brilliant muggle theoretical physicist, Stephen Hawking, covered his theories of time travel.” Hermione paused and waited to see if Draco was up to speed.

Draco, while he was indeed second to Hermione in the class, to say he was lost about famous muggle theoretical whatever was very accurate. But Malfoy pride is a difficulty burdened to bare and there was no way he was going to acknowledge that the witch had lost him a few sentences back. Instead he made an impatient gesture for her to continue and he waited for her to get to the point.

“So what does this have to do with charms? Only the most complex and dangerous charm of all.” Hermione sat back with a proud smile. “Time turners.”

“Time turners.” Draco said, dread already dragging him down. He had expected to have something complex but now this added to his normal workload, Quidditch, prefect and O.W.L.S. preparation he saw his social life effectively beat into the ground with a bludger. But Draco couldn’t say no to the excitement in Granger’s eyes. And he had to admit that it was a fantastic idea. Sure to get them a good mark. But giving in too easy was not his style. “I’ll admit that it is a fantastic idea. But you do realize that all the time we will be putting into the research of this will take some considerable time away from preparing for our O.W.L.S.”

Hermione’s smile turned sly and she lightly tapped a finger on the table. “I have something that will cut our work on the research in half.”

“And what is that? Do you have a time turner lying about your dorm?”

Hermione made a face at his sarcasm. “No I don’t. at least not anymore.”

Draco was silent for half a second as realization dawned. “You don’t mean-“

“Shh!” Hermione looked around to be sure that no one was around to overhear. “Yes, in third year. But it’s a secret. No one can know.”

Draco shook his head in disbelief. This he had to hear. “Who- I mean how-“

Hermione sighed. “Not particularly relevant. Now then, I’m going to begin by writing details down from my experience. Would you hand me my ink bottle please? And you should begin searching the library for how the time turners are created. Then we are going to- ah! Malfoy! And all over my History of Time book!” she exclaimed in shock as in Draco’s haste to hand Hermione her bottle of ink while reaching for his own writing supplies so he could begin making notes on what needed to be done, he accidently tipped the bottle ink over, effectively covering Hermione’s book in a black sticky mess.

Draco frowned not understanding what her panic was all about. “You are a witch aren’t you? Just use a scouring charm.”

Hermione frowned back darkly as she rushed to move all other books and parchments out of the path of the ink. “I will but ink is already almost impossible to clean and the pages will still be discolored. Magic isn’t always perfect you know.”

Draco bit back an apology and shrugged. “Fine. It’s late and I have Quidditch practice in the morning so…”

“You cannot be series. Now that we’ve finally agreed on a topic you can’t just leave! There’s so much to do! And if you honestly believe that I am going to do all the work alone then you are certainly mistaken. I will not be taken advantage of Malfoy. And whoever heard of morning Quidditch practice on a Friday morning. Harry already tried that one on me.”

Sitting back in his chair Draco enjoyed the witches rant. She was all flying hair and flashing eyes and her lips moved rapidly. Though the moment she mentioned his Quidditch rival, Harry, knew it was time to put a stop to it. He was too tired to hear about Potter escapades.

Draco had the feeling that simply explaining to Granger that tomorrow was a Saturday and in fact NOT Monday would get him little ground gained. No the most effective way to end her rant was to simply leave. So that is what he did. Draco stood and collected his possessions and Hermione watched with an open mouth as Draco’s tall form silently strode away. It was only when his light blond hair disappeared did Hermione let out her gasp of disbelief.

“That- that awful, clumsy, rude, lazy, selfish, too blond, too tall, arrogant git!” Hermione hissed as she stood and began stuffing her belongings into her bag. “Leaving me when we were just getting started. Well if he honestly believes that I’m going to do all the work by myself then the little-“

“Ah hem.”

Hermione looked up and snapped her mouth shut as Madam Pince stood beside the table, her hat pulled low and her mouth pushed into an impatient frown.

“Miss. Granger, the library closed twelve minuets ago.”

“I’m sorry Madam Pince. I must have lost track of the time. But I’m leaving right now.” Hermione said quietly, a bit embarrassed to have been caught ranting and knowing that Malfoy had been right was a little difficult for her to swallow. But Hermione held herself with grace and quickly made her exit.

She paused outside of the library and looked toward the path to the dungeons, to see Draco still walking down the hallway. For no reason at all he paused and looked back over his shoulder. He was too far away to tell his expression but Hermione was positive that he had a smug look on his face. Hermione whirled away and strode in with stiff shoulders in the opposite direction.

If anyone would have been there to take notice of her rose tinted cheeks, Hermione would have surely scoffed at the very idea, even denying the reason to herself. And despite the thousand other more important things she had to occupy her mind the only thing that she could think of as she laid in her bed was the fact that she could still smell buttered cinnamon scones.

\--“How did brainstorming with the king of prats go last night Hermione.” Ron asked his mouth full with the French toast he had just stuffed in it. Everyone was seated for breakfast the next morning, some making their weekend plans, fewer were studying while they ate, and almost everyone was talking about the upcoming Quidditch game between Hufflepuff and Slytherin the next weekend.

Hermione however was of the group studying; it was O.W.L.S. year after all. When Ron asked his question a second time Hermione finally heard her name and looked up from her DADA book. “What was that Ron?” she asked.

Ron repeated himself yet again, his look of annoyance bringing a chuckle from Harry.

Hermione couldn’t help the quick flick her gaze had toward the Slytherin table, only Malfoy was absent. Ignoring the brief pang of disappointment Hermione remembered that he had had Quidditch practice. Once again she felt embarrassed. Apparently it was a Saturday and indeed not a Friday. Clearing her throat Hermione looked back at her book and blindly reaching for a buttered scone and setting it on her plate.

“It was excruciating. We spent the entire time trying to find a suitable presentation topic. His ideas were getting more and more ridiculous. Naturally it was left to me to come up with the best option. And then just when we were beginning, he decides that he’s had enough and leaves. Using Quidditch practice as an excuse. Honestly Quidditch practice. But _not_ before spilling ink all over one of my books. He better not expect me to do all of the work. “

“Ah. Sounds awful. So what did you decide on?” Harry asked nonchalantly.

Hermione smiled in amusement. “Sorry Harry you are on your own! You two were suspiciously lucky to have been partnered together…”

“Aw c’mon Mione. It was all in the luck, like you said. Okay what was one of the ideas that you and Malfoy scrapped?” Ron whined. He cleared his throat when his increased tone of voice turned the head of Lavender Brown in curiosity.

Hermione thought back to Draco’s last idea and how defensive he was of it. She had indeed noticed the stormy color his eyes had turned when she mentioned Ron and charming a piano. Hermione’s smile widened. “You two should definitely do your project on how to charm musical instruments.”

Harry looked at Ron and Ron looked back at Harry, both silently agreeing with nods and shrugs. “Sounds easy enough. Thanks Hermione.”

Hermione’s eyes flicked toward the Great Hall doors as a freshly showered Slytherin Quidditch team strolled inside, Draco surrounded by the mix of his housemates. Hermione’s smile turned sly as they locked eyes.

“All my pleasure.” Hermione answered, quiet pleased with how things had turned out. Despite what she had said to Draco she knew that charms were neither of her friends’ strong suit. Their presentation was sure to be a delight for her and she suspected quite frustrating for her infuriating partner. She suspected that music held something special to him. “Call it payback for my book Malfoy.” Hermione muttered under her breath as she turned her attention back to her book.

She was however pulled away from her studying once again as the owl post deliveries began. And as it was a Saturday and she normally received her weekly post from her parents on Monday, she was quite startled when Skittles dropped a heavy envelope, addressed to Hermione Jean Granger. Immediately after Hedwig dropped a smaller envelope for Harry and down the table Hermione could hear Fred and George give shouts of surprise as the received an envelope as well.

Hermione ran a finger lightly over her name written in small and neat handwriting while Ron leaned over.

“Hermione Jean Granger. Hey your middle name is Jean!” Ron laughed.

“How is this big deal?” Hermione asked with a huff.

Harry tilted his head. “Well we’ve known you all this time and didn’t know your middle name.” He said as he opened his own envelope.

“You never asked.” Hermione said softly. “No one has ever asked and I have never told it to anyone.”

“Who’s it addressed from?” Ron asked with his attention watching his brothers fight over whom had the rights to reading their post first.

Hermione turned the package around and over. “Doesn’t appear to be one- Harry what is it?”

Harry held up a small gold key and a small note. “The note says: Harry, this key has served me well for many years but it is time to return it. - _A_ _n_ _S_ _ionnach”_

_“_ AnSionnach _._ Definitely curious. Is that your vault key?” Hermione asked.

“I- I think it is.”

“But how did AnSionnach, whoever that is, come to have the key to _your_ family vault.”

Harry shook his head clearly perplexed.

“Harry you have to investigate this!”

Harry nodded and stood to leave. “I’ll write to my father right now.”

“I’ll go with you” Ron said and the two wizards left quickly.

Once they were gone Hermione turned back to her own mysterious post and carefully opened the thick envelop, and pulled out a book, obviously used and several decades old.

“A Sound of Thunder. “ Hermione whispered as she opened the cover carefully. Written on the inside were the words, “ _Remember how you used to run when you were a kid, and how the wind felt. Like feathers on your arms. You ran and thought any minute you’d fly, but you never quite did.”_ And followed by: “Keep your heart open lovely Hermione and you will learn to finally fly. - _A_ _n_ _S_ _ionnach”_

Hermione felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end as she read the words over and over, the meaning just out of her grasp.

\--At the same moment Fred at last won the rights to reading the post after having stuffed more sausages in his mouth than George. With a smug smile he ripped open the thin envelop and unfolded the parchment, skipping past the seal of Gringotts to the good part.

Misters Fred and George Weasley-

With this statement there has been a deposit of three hundred galleons has been made to your account. This makes your current balance now eleven thousand eight hundred and forty three galleons.

-Accountants of Gringotts

Tucked inside the official letter was a note from Bill: This came from an anonymous investor. Good going!

Fred frowned and handed the two parchments to George.

“Investor? Nice!” George cheered and turned to show Lee Jordan.

“How do they even know we are saving to open our own line of joke products George?” Fred asked with a suspicious frown.

“Probably heard about the ones that we have been selling around Hogwarts, who cares? Let them invest till their hearts content!” George said with a laugh.

Fred joined in and stuffed the notice in his pocket. “Our lucky day!”

\--Draco spent the better part of his weekend dodging Astoria’s attempts to get to know him, shaking off Daphne and Pansy’s narrowed looks of venom, even putting off going to the library to see if Hermione was there and ready to work together like civilized beings and dreading the letter from his father that was sure to arrive Monday morning.

Instead Draco hid himself on the balcony of the Astronomy tower for as long as he could get away with it, trying to think of anything other than all that was wrong in his life. As impossible as that is.

The contract, his future role in the family business affairs, his candidacy for Head Boy, denying to himself just how long he had been harboring feelings for Hermione Granger, all of it weighed heavily in this mind.

Smiling softly Draco leaned back against the cold stone wall behind him as the sun began to set, and he allowed himself for the first time to remember the moment he first had laid eyes on her. On their very first Hogwarts Express train ride he had been searching for the treat trolley, not content to sit and wait for the trolley tender to make her way to his compartment. There in the middle of the isle, on her hands and knees looking under compartment seats was the bushiest, most plain brown hair he had ever seen and it was keeping him from what he wanted.

“Move it or I’ll step on you.” He’d said with hardly any thought to how rude he was being. However the wild mane of hair looked up and he found the most piercing eyes imaginable and with a scowl that could challenge his father and she’d had no problem calling him out on his lack of manners.

“Step on me and it’ll be the last thing you do in this life. Now the polite thing to do would be to offer your assistance.” The girl had said with so much authority Draco was helpless.

Uncertain as to how it had happened Draco was next on his own hands and knees, looking under the seats as well. “Fine but what are we looking for?”

“A toad. A boy named Neville Longbottom’s pet escaped and is somewhere on the train.” Hermione had answered without stopping her search.

Draco remembered finding it odd that a girl was willing to touch a toad. “Don’t you know that girls get warts from toads?” he said, remembering what his mother had told his younger cousin Altaria.

That had gotten the girls attention and she looked back at him with this indescribable expression. But before she could set him straight what had happened next Draco would never forget.

Pansy Parkinson had arrived on scene.

“Draco why are you down there, what are you doing?” Her expression had been pleasantly curious, until she had taken notice of his companion. “Who are you?” she’d demanded with coldness.

Hermione seemed to have not noticed and stood, dusting her hands off she held one out to Pansy.

“I’m Hermione, Hermione Granger.”

Pansy’s expression took on one of revulsion as she ignored the proffered hand and looked down at Draco. “A mudblood Draco? Can you imagine how your father is going to take this?”

Draco had felt the blood drain out of his face as he realized his mistake and scrambled to his feet. Muggleborns were tolerated but not accepted. Draco didn’t know what to feel. The horror and devastation on Hermione’s face, and the horror and disgust on Pansy’s and knowing that his father was going to have plenty to say about the entire situation left him incredibly confused.

So Draco did what he knew best and attempted to protect him from the damage.

Draco’s smile had faded long ago as the echo of his words haunted him. “She told me she was of pureblood! I should have known. Filthy mudbloods can’t be trusted.”

Inside Draco had wanted to take it back, everything and defend the small girl he was walking away from. The brief moment he had allowed himself to look back, he had expected to see her with tears in her eyes. Yet there was undeniably sadness there in them but it was clearly mixed with anger. And ever since, it had been her walking away from him.

\--“Silence everyone!” Headmaster Dumbledore said later in the evening as the students seated themselves at their house tables in the Great Hall and waited for the headmaster to continue.

“This year we will be inviting a wonderful guest to our school. A past student of here, but newly arrived from Hungary; please welcome Madam Rayna Darcy, prestigious conductress of the World Wizarding Orchestra.” Dumbledore paused to allow everyone to give their welcome with clapping as an elegantly boned woman gave a slight bow in greeting before taking her seat next to Professor Flitwick. “Which leads to my second bit of news: she will be joining Professor Flitwick in putting together a concert in honor of the holidays. Auditions will be next Saturday after the Quidditch game. Please remember to sign up with your heads of house.” And with the announcement finished, he took his seat at the teachers table and dinner began.

The low murmur of excited voices lifted to the celling, as students expressed their excitement at the thought of playing in the concert.

Severus tuned out the voices as he remembered the letter he had received just days before about Madam Darcy. At the time he had been confused on why he had been given special instruction from Dumbledore to reintroduce the former student to the school. He had not known the witch well in school, though he had to admit that she was one of the few he had ever encountered that could pass Lily in beauty and kindness.

Severus frowned as his thoughts turned from the talented witch to the thought of Lily and reached for his goblet of elf wine. Their friendship had never repaired itself after their falling out and he still felt the hollow ache. Severus knew he was full of bitterness and anger even now after all this time.

Some things, like the loss of your only friend, were difficult to overcome.

\--Monday evening found Hermione finally getting what she wanted. Her and Draco at last back in the library, both busy reading passages and scribbling notes about time turners. The two had been steadily researching for a full hour before Hermione’s attention was caught by something else.

She had noticed the elegant and fine boned way Malfoy held and wrote with his quill and a deduction struck her that he more than likely dabbled in piano. She herself had learned to play and he had the perfect fingers for handling complex keystrokes.

“Will you be auditioning?” Hermione asked before she could think better.

The sudden sound of her voice startled Draco slightly as they had been working in silence the entire time, neither having spoke as they had taken their usual table in the library, and he looked up his light blue eyes hooded.

“What a ridiculous idea.” He quickly denied. Not wanting her to know that the moment he had seen Madam Darcy in the Great Hall his soul had pulled with excitement and even sang with joy at the thought of playing in the concert. But while his father had tolerated his mother’s wish that Draco learn to play the instrument, he had quickly stamped out any foolish dream that Draco might be good enough to play with high ambitions in mind. He was to be concerned with learning to run a multi-business family corporation.

Hermione sat straight and folded her arms. “Don’t bother. I know a pianist when I see one. You have all the signs and Malfoy I can read them like a book. Do you want me to list them?”

Draco knew he lost this one. “Your ability to notice everything is very annoying you know.”

Hermione smiled at the defeat in his tone. “So I’ve been told. Well?”

Draco sighed and slumped back, tossing his quill on the table and pushing his hair from his eyes. “No.” he said simply.

Hermione admitted the pang of disappointment she felt. The thought of someone as cold and unfeeling as Draco Malfoy actually having passion for something other than torturing muggleborns with nasty glares had been a small beacon for her.

Hermione shook off the feeling and shrugged but she had to have the last word on the subject. “For the best I suppose. Only the most talented should be up there with someone as amazing as Madam Darcy.”

Hermione hid a smile as Draco’s face turned red and he abruptly stood and left the table, only to return long enough to snatch up his belongings. She could almost make out the curses he was muttering under his breath but the one thing she did catch was the “I’ll show her the bloody little witch” as he stomped off.

Hermione finally let her smile break free and she chuckled to herself at her success. Managing Malfoy was just as easy as it was to manage Ron and Harry.

 


	38. The Hidden Battles

 

 

Draco dropped his heavy bag of text books on the library table, and he collapsed into his chair with a tired sigh. Ignoring Hermione’s glare when his bag landed with a loud thump and lightly shook the table, he rubbed a temple with his eyes closed. “No research today. I’m not going into detail other than these Astrology charts are less than four hours from being late.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and pulled her apprentice application letter closer to her. “Do what you like. I welcome the time to perfect my application to Madam Bagshot.”

Draco didn’t answer for a moment, only opened his eyes and watched the witch across from him as she wrote. She never stopped writing, he noticed as the moment turned into several minutes. Her eyes moved across the paper quickly and her quill only ever left the parchment long enough to be dipped into the ink bottle. Expressions from lip chewing to small smiles and tiny frowns came and went.

“I find it strange that someone has already decided on a career path before even sitting their O.W.L.S.”

Hermione didn’t try to hide her irritation at being interrupted but she set her quill down and turned her attention to him. “I have always known what I wanted to be. Researching, discovering, piecing together long forgotten information… it’s all very exciting for me.”

Draco smiled slightly. “So I’ve noticed.” He was quiet for a moment, “I envy you.” He blurted and then shifted uncomfortably at what he had just admitted. Looking away he rubbed the back of his neck. “I mean… knowing what you want so early in life.” He tried to cover up his blunder hoping that she wouldn’t read into it.

Hermione sat stunned. Not many were envious of her, she knew that. Many would probably find her personality a burden. So the thought that someone like Draco Malfoy finding something about her that he wished he had for himself was revolutionary. “Do you know what you want to do after finishing school?” She asked with wide brown eyes.

Knowing he was entering dangerous territory, admitting out loud to anything he wanted for himself, he ignored Hermione and began to pull out the various supplies he needed to complete his Astrology homework.

Hermione shook her head figuring that it wasn’t worth the fight and picked up her quill once more. She was nearly finished with her rough draft and was eager to begin looking for the mistakes before the library closed.

The two had been sitting in silence for only ten or so minuets when Draco’s sighs of frustration began to occupy the space. Hermione’s frown would grow with each of his sighs and she couldn’t help looking up to see if she could put a stop to his distracting nonsense.

Each student has their class strengths and weaknesses such as Divination being her weakest class, hence why she dropped it, and apparently Astrology was his. The link between the Astrology and Divination classes was a thin one but the science and the ancient lore of the cosmos was enough for her to show moderate interest in Astrology.

Hermione could see right away what the problem was and chewed on her lip, debating on whether she should attempt to help. But he sighed and ran a hand through his hair another time and Hermione gave in. “You’re doing it wrong.”

Draco didn’t look up from his work. “No I’m not Granger.”

Crossing her arms she kicked him lightly in the shin, forcing him to look up with a scowl. “Do you honestly think I would say that you’re doing it wrong if I wasn’t positive that you are?”

“Alright then… what am I doing wrong?” He said with a petulant expression and sour tone.

Pleased, Hermione pulled his chart to her side of the table and waited for him to join her side of the table. “See here?” she pointed to what seemed to be a random star to Draco. “This is _Corvus_ but what you want is to completely map out the ancient _Hydra_ constellation. Simply put, you are using a more modern chart and you need the ancient star map in order to chart this and effectively write your essay.”

Feeling like an idiot Draco groaned and let his head fall back dramatically. “Unbelievable. I don’t have the time to walk all the way to my dorm, retrieve the apparent _correct_ chart, and still finish these mappings in time for Astrology tonight.

Hermione couldn’t help but laugh. Malfoy was almost like a child when things were not going his way. Deciding to have mercy on him Hermione began to pull parchment after parchment, book after book out of her bag.

At her movements Draco turned his head to the side and narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “There are an awful lot of things in that bag. Hermione Granger didn’t do anything… illegal did she?”

“If you want me to help then you’ll stop talking.” Hermione muttered, ducking to hide the blush on her cheeks.

“What’s that?” He nodded toward the book Hermione had just sat on the table.

Following his gaze Hermione handed him the book. “I received this Saturday. Someone must know that I have a passion for solving mysteries.” She said distractedly.

“ _Remember how you used to run when you were a kid, and how the wind felt. Like feathers on your arms. You ran and thought any minute you’d fly, but you never quite did.”_

_“Keep your heart open lovely Hermione and you will learn to finally fly. - A_ _n_ _S_ _ionnach”_ , he read aloud.

“The Fox?” He whispered; a story his father told him once came to mind.

“You can read Gaelic?” Hermione looked up from her task in surprise.

Draco sat straight with pride and smirked, _“_ _Fheabhas_ _mé ag sé theanga agus tá mé ag foghlaim na Gearmáine faoi láthair._ _”_ He said smugly, his Irish accent perfect.

Hermione grit her teeth for a moment. She knew enough of the language to get the gist of what he was saying and it grated on her that he knew two more languages than her already and was currently learning a new one.

Draco innocently widened his eyes. _"Ti piacerebbe se ti ho insegnato?"_

“Hah! _Ho_ _già_ _imparato_ _italiano_."

_"_ _Francese?"_

_"_ _Spagnolo?"_

_"_ _Svenska?"_

Hermione huffed, and returned to her task.

Draco chuckled lightly, throughly enjoying himself for the first time in a long time. Besting Hermione Granger, unexpectedly will do that for you he found.

“Ah here it is. One star chart from the correct time period.” She said a moment later, her language defeat already pushed to the side of her mind. She began to hand it to Draco but snapped it back to her chest with a threatening look. “If you damage this…” she warned.

Draco begrudgingly held out a hand for the offered chart. “Yes, yes I know you’ll hex me into the next century or some sort of threat like that.”

Hermione fought another smile. “And don’t forget it.” And she released the chart into his possession, staring at her fingers that just grazed the side of his hand. Feeling her cheeks heat for the second time in as many minutes, Hermione hunched over her application, determined to get back to work.

The two worked until Madam Pince shooed them from the library, Draco having just put the final dot on his essay and Hermione finishing the first round of corrections on her application letter. Hermione realized as they left the library together that she had just spent the past three hours sitting next to someone that had always shown her contempt and the ugly side of themselves. And it had been pleasant.

They stood outside of the doors in the quiet hallway, each waiting with expressions that spoke of having something to say.

Draco cleared his throat and held out Hermione’s chart. “Undamaged just as promised.” He said a bit loudly. Hermione accepted her possession, careful not to touch him, afraid to admit that she was afraid of the reaction.

Hermione nodded. “I have prefect rounds so…”

“I do as well. I suppose I’ll see you at Astronomy…”

“Right.” Hermione didn’t think she could bare holding in her astonishment that he was treating her as a human so she turned on her heel and began to head to the Gryffindor tower.

“Granger?” Draco’s voice gave her pause and she turned back. “Don’t tell anyone right? That I needed your help.”

‘And there it is.’ Hermione thought, mentally rolling her eyes. “Wouldn’t dream of it Malfoy.” She said out loud. She shook her head at the relief in his eyes and she took her leave. Irritation settled on her like an itchy wool cloak.

Draco shook his own head as he turned and walked in the opposite direction. He knew she took his reason the wrong way, and she should have. But she didn’t know the true reason he had asked for her silence.

\--The next day Hermione had been thinking of her time in the library all day. Incredibly distracted by the confusion inside of her. Mostly centered on why she was so disappointed in how Draco had made the request to keep the fact that she helped him a secret.

The desire to run to Ginny and tell her about how her curious reaction, was pulling at her soul. But her word had been given so Hermione held it inside. Realizing that she had spent the day hardly paying any attention to any of their lessons she determined that it was better to focus on something else other than Malfoy and his warm piano playing fingers.

The mysterious witch came to mind and Hermione remembered that she had wanted to speak with Stephen Black about her.

“Stephen! Do you have a moment?” Hermione asked as she came across her classmate outside of the Transfiguration classroom. They had just finished their last class of the day and everyone was eager to fill their bellies with hot delicious food before ignoring their homework in place of gossip and games.

Stephen turned at the sound of his name, a warm smile already present. “Of course. What’s up?”

Hermione led the way out of the classroom and walked with a slow pace. “I was curious as to if you knew someone. A witch, couple of years older than us, perhaps my height? She would have had very pale hair, almost white.”

Stephen thought for a moment with a small frown. “Sounds like that could be anyone. Why do you think I would know her?”

Hermione sighed. “It’s all very mysterious. She barely mentioned the last name Black to Malfoy last Christmas. Claimed to be a Gryffindor and was covered in blood.”

Stephen shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the first time someone associated with the name Black went loony. Take my fathers cousin Bellatrix for example. As the story goes, she up and woke in the middle of the night some time before I was born, screaming about Dark Lords, Deatheaters, and how she had to get to _him._ Whoever _he_ is we weren’t sure.”

Hermione sat wide eyed, the mention of Dark Lords and Deatheaters scratching at something in her mind. “What happened to her?”

“Not sure. She disappeared the next night. Upset Draco’s mother a whole lot. They were close you know. Sisters and all that. And cousin Narcissa was soon to be married to Lucius. Important time for someone to have her closest around her.”

Hermione’s eyes sought out Draco as he passed them by. “I’m sure they were.” Hermione wondered if the witch had truly gone mad and could be a relative of the notorious pureblood line. He briefly met her gaze with a small nod before Theodore Nott distracted him and he looked away, and she stared at his hair. Their hair was so similar. The woman HAD to be a part of his family surely.

“Why are you so interested in this witch anyways?” Stephen asked, following Hermione’s gaze. He nudged her on the shoulder. “Oi.”

Hermione looked back, blinking her eyes. “Sorry, it’s just that when I saw her standing next to Malfoy there was such a resemblance. Their hair, the way they held themselves… she could have been his sister. If it weren’t for her gold eyes… Anyway my interest is because she was covered in blood and she looked like she had just been in- in a battle of sort. Added to her resemblance to Malfoy, her obvious lie about being in Gryffindor, and her sudden disappearance, was more than enough to ensure my ongoing attention.”

Hermione stopped talking when she noticed Stephen became distracted and had paused before smoothing his black curls. “I’ve gotta go. If I come across anything I’ll be sure to pass it along.”

And Hermione watched with amusement as he strolled away oozing charm as he wrapped an arm around a girl other than the previous owner of his attentions, Rosalinda.

“Where did you get that tie _worm?”_

Hermione heard a nasty voice taunt from down an adjoining corridor. Her prefect instincts kicking in she looked around and the sight had her heart leaping with adrenalin as anger surged through her.

Gregory Goyle stood over a much smaller form, his hands pushing the much younger student, causing him to stumble and fall. Hermione could see the fear on his face yet the defiance in his eyes.

“The same place as you Goyle.” He said quietly.

“You shouldn’t be in Slytherin. Your blood is as disgusting as it gets. You should be in the kitchens with the other slaves.” Goyle growled.

“My- my mother is a pure blood witch!” He stammered.

“And your father a mudblood and she’s a blood traitor! Disgusting on both sides.”

Hermione had heard enough to make her sick and she pulled out her wand and hurried down the darkened corridor.

“Gregory Goyle don’t you lay another hand on him!” Hermione yelled as Goyle leaned down and wrapped a fist in the boy’s robes.

Goyle did as he was told and unhanded the boy, who scrambled to his feet and stood to the side.

“What you going to do about it Granger?”

Hermione was sure to have her wand in her hand. “Deduct house points and detention for one. Report this incident to Professor Snape for two. How’s that to start with?”

Goyle may be an idiot in all things academic but he knew trouble with his head of house would mean trouble with his father, no matter the reason. Mumbling something about asking Crabbe if he knew how to do a silencing charm he stalked past Hermione, hunching his shoulders when she lifted her wand in warning.

Watching until he was gone, Hermione turned back to the small wizard who was now leaning against the stone wall, his head down. Sighing she walked over to him and set a hand on his shoulder, pulling it back when he shrugged her off angrily.

“What is your name?” Hermione asked gently.

“Lou Cuinn.” He said in a hoarse whisper.

“Well Lou I see that you’re in Slytherin. If this happens again I need you to either get Professor Snape or myself. Even Malfoy-“She paused when Lou scoffed and looked up through his curly blond hair.

“What’s he going to do? You think he feels any better toward someone... someone like me?”

Hermione swallowed at the pain in his voice. Unusual for someone still so young.

“Okay. Fine come get me. No matter what. Do you understand?”

Lou shrugged and stared back down at his shoes. “Why do you care?”

Hermione knelt down to meet his eyes. “Some would call it my Gryffindor need to protect everyone I meet but the truth is that I know what it’s like to be insulted cruelly for my right to call myself a witch.” She said quietly as a far off memory echoed through her. “Now then, if you don’t need to go to the hospital wing I suppose we best get going. I fear we have already missed out on supper.”

“Whatever. I’m not hungry anyways.” Lou muttered as he quickly walked away, with the walk of someone with a thousand worries, and all of them haunting him at once.

Hermione closed her eyes for a moment and breathed deeply as she brought her emotions under control. She had caught Goyle behaving horribly many times but never to someone in his own house. She shuddered at what that poor boy must go through in the dungeon day in and day out. She knew that from now on she would need to keep a sharper eye on them.

And she need to speak to Malfoy.

\--Draco was feeling wonderful. He’d had a spectacular Quidditch practice and felt fully confident that he and his team would win against Hufflepuff in the upcoming Saturday game. He had not seen Astoria at all during the day and his father had yet to send a letter about his partnership with Hermione or the fact that he had gotten the spot in the orchestra playing the piano.

He was on his way to the end of the month prefect meeting , a spring in his step, when he came across a couple of younger yet pretty enough witches and feeling charming he gave a winning smile and bowed as they passed, their giggles and blushes amusing.

Once they finally rounded the corner in their path, admiring glances and whispers leaving him behind he chuckled and straightened.

“Draco Malfoy, WHAT was that?” Hermione said from behind him.

He whirled in surprise and found her standing with her arms crossed and an eyebrow arched.

Sheepishly he shrugged before forcing a frown. “None of your business. What about you, sneaking around like that?”

Hermione rolled her eyes. She seemed to do that quite a lot around him. “I need to talk to you before the prefect meeting.”

Checking his timepiece to be sure that there was time he nodded. “Alright but make it quick or we’ll be late.”

“Naturally, I have no wish to be late any more than you.” Hermione took a deep breath and paid close attention to Draco’s expression. “Do you know a wizard in your house Lou Cuinn? He would be a first or second year I believe.”

Draco frowned. “Yes I know of him. What about him.”

“I came across your friend Goyle abusing him because of his blood heritage.”

Draco tilted his head to the side slightly, in his euphoria he forgot just exactly who he was talking to. “I’m sure Goyle wouldn’t have done any real harm to the kid. Besides it’s unnatural for someone with his… parentage to be in a house that is built on purity principles.” He said nonchalantly. His day of free will and good news leading to mistakenly thinking of Hermione as someone who would understand pureblood logic

“Do- do you even think before you speak? That little boy is being tortured in YOUR jurisdiction by YOUR friends for something he had no control over. Do you honestly believe that he or anyone actually wants to be in Slytherin? You miserable lot are disgusting to others and now I find you are monsters even to your own.” Hermione said loudly. Shock and heat reverberated through her.

“We were raised with standards and rules Granger. Respect for the old ways for all our lives and suddenly we are thrust into moldy castle with everyone that’s from the outside telling us that what we know is wrong. That our _morals_ are wrong and disgusting and monstrous. And they may be right but it doesn’t change the fact that we are being judged just as harshly as we are judging you.” Draco growled hotly as he defended himself and his house pride. He stood before her his fists clenched and his eyes dark with anger.

“If you know they are wrong then do something about it! Innocent people are being hurt by this right under your nose while you stand by and allow it to happen.

“I’m not saying that they are wrong or right. I am outnumbered on all sides Granger. Certainly, I can give Goyle detention until he graduates, I can coddle the Cuinn boy so that he feels safe, but it won’t change anything. No, it will only be worse.”

“How could you possibly believe that what he is going through could get any worse? If I hadn’t been there to stop Goyle I wonder if I would have found that boy’s body.” Hermione felt her emotions getting out of control as she stepped closer, her eyes pleading.

“Because I can’t protect every wretched soul in the castle! The moment I am attending to my own life, Goyle will take advantage of it and do even worse. And he will because his father would find out. But his father wouldn’t be angry that Goyle had done the act, his father would be angry that he had been caught. And then my father is asking me why I am defending the spawn of a blood traitor and mudblood, his words exactly, and making my life miserable for it. So now Goyle is torturing Cuinn even more than before out of anger and hatred possibly even getting others to join in, his father is torturing Goyle out of anger and hatred and my father well pride in his heritage is deadly important to him so you take a guess. What would you have me do?”

Hermione felt utterly defeated and let down. “Every life is worth fighting for, even if it means sacrificing yourself.”

Shaking his head in disgust he brushed past her. “That might be what is written in the Gryffindor tapestries but not where I come from. And if you believe that these “morals” are strictly a Slytherin trait then you have been incredibly made a fool of.” He walked a few steps before turning back to face her stiff back. “We are all given a battle to fight in life Granger. Mine may not apparent to you just as yours may not be seen by me.”

Hermione didn’t reply but she hugged herself as she turned and led the way to the prefect meeting. All disillusioned thoughts that Draco Malfoy might not perhaps care about ones “blood status” as much as he wanted everyone to think, had been banished to the darkest shadows in her mind and locked away.

They walked the remainder of the walk to the Great Hall in cold stony silence, each stubborn in their beliefs, and neither were willing to bend. Joining their fellow prefects, they sat as far away from the other as was manageable.

Ron moved to join Hermione with a suspicious glare at Draco. “What were you doing with him?”

In no mood for another confrontation Hermione gave him a glare that clearly said that it was none of his business. Ron flinched and held up his hands. “Blimey. Just asking. Guessing that whatever happened, happened in typical Malfoy the git style.”

Her glare saying it all Hermione noticed Professor Sprout coming into the Great Hall in a hurry. She watched as the lively teacher waved over the Head Boy and Head Girl to join her away from the others. She couldn’t tell what was being said as the three huddled together quietly, but she did see lots of gleeful smiles and enthusiastic nods before their professor just as quickly left, allowing the leaders to commence with the meeting.

Shanta Sneed this year’s Head Girl, a true Hufflepuff to the heart and Gryffindor Vance Reichert as Head Boy stood together at the head of the table all the prefects were occupying each holding a list of objectives. They were pointing and talking quietly, an occasional nod before Vance quickly pulled out a ball point pen and wrote something down. When he was done their joint attention turned toward the waiting students.

“Thank you for joining in for the mandatory end of month meeting.” Shanta said with a wide smile.

“We have lots to cover before we release so let’s get started.” Vance added with a more serious expression.

“Right. First off this month’s rounds partners. As always you will be one on one off one, paired with someone of a different house, alternating weekly between the two prefects in your corresponding year. Please pick your schedule up from Vance and me when you leave.”

“Ah this one is exciting: after a meeting with the Head of Houses it had been put up for a vote that all prefects be required to attend the Quidditch matches in order to achieve a semblance of keeping the other students from becoming too… plucky shall we say when it comes to showing support for their favored team.”

“Of course if you will be playing in that day’s game you will already be there so…”

“Next, the first Hogsmead visit is right around the corner coming up in a few weeks. Be sure and get with your third years and thoroughly explain what is expected of them.”

Shanta paused as she read what was next on the list.

“alright and last thing; Professor Flitwick and Madam Darcy have requested for several volunteers in December to decorate the old ball room for the upcoming concert. Seems it’s been neglected since the TriWizard Ball last year so expect that signup sheet on the way out.”

“Anyone have anything to share with us about their duties?”

Hermione was absolutely seething. While she had no quarrel with the game and had even attended several in support of her friends, she had no wish to be forced to go to them and watch everyone nearly get themselves killed repeatedly. But she held her thoughts to herself and stood to leave as soon as Vance adjourned the meeting. Snatching her prefect round schedule for November she left the hall in a hurry, ignoring Ron’s call for her to wait up. She didn’t stop until she was sat in the middle of her bed, the drapes closed and the room, thank Merlin, empty.

Only then did she notice the schedule, no crumpled, sticking out from under her bag. Just barely making out the name, Hermione snatched the schedule up and read the name clearly, full of fury.

As these things go, Draco Malfoy was her prefect partner for the next week to be followed by Pansy Parkinson the week after that. Hermione couldn’t believe how awful her luck was going, never suspecting an odd conversation a certain professor had had with the Head Girl and Boy.

 

 


	39. Weasley Wisdom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N Hello everyone. Please excuse my absence. Holidays mixed with everything else life throws at you, etc etc. I didn’t really enjoy this chapter but it needed to be done so that I can move on.

 

 

Draco had been in a foul mood ever since Hermione had very effectively ruined his good mood a week ago. Thereafter, he had made several first years cry with merely a scowl and had been more willing than ever to hand out detention for the pettiest of offenses.

Even going so far as to try and give George and Fred detention for sneaking out of the castle kitchens. The two had merely laughed and walked away shaking their heads with Fred throwing a “Sure Malfoy. We’ll be there!” Over his shoulder, full of laughter and blatant sarcasm.

He wasn’t sure why he had felt so compelled to defend himself to Hermione, knowing that she would never understand and she’d made it very clear that she didn’t want to try, but the way she had been looking at him, so full of disgust and disappointment, he’d felt the desperate need to make her understand.

But Gryffindors were stubborn and he knew that it would be easier for him to move past this than it would be for her. Now that it was several days after their argument, his anger was slipping away slowly. He still clenched his fists whenever he saw Hermione in class or in the hall, but he no longer wanted to write a book just to explain why he was so hurt and angry. No matter if he had hurt her first long ago.

He just wanted to be angry for a little while before attempting to work with her again. And since their first night as prefect partners was that very day, he figured it was time to approach her and bury the entire occurrence for good.

That is until a note that had just been given to him by a stammering, blushing third year witch as he walked into the Great Hall for breakfast told him everything he need to know on just how much time _she_ needed away from him.

_Malfoy- Don’t bother coming to the library to work on the Charms presentation. I’ve finished it on my own._

_P.S. Honestly, I do not believe doing our prefect rounds together will be necessary. Feel free to make someone’s life miserable without me there with my “Gryffindor” opinions._

Anger that had previously been cooling began to boil in his blood once more and Draco glared daggers at Hermione as he stalked into the Great Hall, anger surging through him as he wadded the note into a ball and dropped it into someone’s cup of pumpkin juice as he walked by. She met him glare for glare as he strode to his seat, facing her across the Hall.

Theo took one glance at Draco as his oldest friend joined him and could feel the anger rolling off of him. Following his gaze Theo rolled his eyes when he saw the angry glare of Hermione locked on Draco.

“Let me guess. Problems, again, with Granger I’m assuming? How am I not surprised?” He said moving his attention back toward his lovely breakfast.

“We have the reputations of being the ones with the narrow minds but she… hers not only is narrow but she should also learn to not speak it. Would you stop that infernal smacking?” Draco snapped words that inside he didn’t mean, finally looking away from Hermione to look at his friend who calmly swallowed his poached egg.

“I can see that I prefer you when you are not on the outs with the Granger witch.” Theo leaned close to Draco and said quietly. “I suggest you figure out how to fix this rift between the two of you because you will surely put off everyone with that temper of yours. And if Daphne gets it in her empty mind that your father needs to know of your current mood then you will have even more to explain.”

Before Draco could snap back a clever retort about how he would rather invite Longbottom over for a lively game of Quidditch and tea than attempt any such action, he was however interrupted when his eagle owl, Zeus, dropped a thin envelope sealed with his family crest and Draco felt his mood grow even worse.

Here was the letter that he had hopped his father had felt that it was unnecessary to write. Apparently he was dreadfully wrong. Draco shoved it into his pocket, determined to ignore it until he felt he was ready to handle it.

When Blaise Zabinni approached the table a moment later he took one look at Draco’s dark glower and the feral way he jabbed his sausage and promptly sat near several sixth year Slytherin witches. “Hello darlings…”

\--“Hermione listen to this.” Harry waved the letter he had just received from his father. “I’ve just heard back from Dad. Hermione?” Harry looked up when he realized he didn’t have her attention.

“Granger! Harry’s talking to you!” Ginny yelled in Hermione’s ear making her flinch away.

“That was completely unnecessary!” Hermione complained while rubbing her offended ear. “What is it Harry?”

“My dad just wrote to say that he has opened an investigation with Gringotts about that key I received.”

“Good, maybe we can get some answers soon!”

“He agreed that it was really odd. Claims that he’s never been without it ever since his dad gave it to him when my parents got married. How about you? Any luck on that book you received?”

Hermione sighed and rubbed her eyes sleepily. She hadn’t been sleeping well and usually would end up working until the early hours of the morning on various projects she had going on. Finishing the Charms presentation, improving her apprentice application and research, and during the day even torturing several students who were helplessly falling behind.

Anything to keep her mind off of Draco and his words, but she had pushed the mystery book sender to the back of her mind along with the mystery witch. Hermione groaned and opened her eyes. Her avoiding Draco Malfoy with burying herself school work had also led to her avoiding other interest that involved him even in minor ways.

“No I haven’t.” Hermione muttered wearily.

Ginny took a bite of apple. “Why not? Figured you would be all over something as weird as that.”

“I know.” Hermione sighed. “I’ve just been really busy with other things.” She hunched her shoulders against Ginny’s piercing stare. After a moment of strained silence Hermione suddenly slammed her hand on the table. “Alright Ginny I have got to talk to you. Come on.” She pulled Ginny by her wrist as the redhead fought to hold onto her half eaten apple.”

“Uh, bye Harry?” Ginny helplessly waved as she stumbled after Hermione while Harry answered with a confused wave, shaking his head as Ron and Seamus jumped out of the duo’s way.

“Hermione, what in Merlin’s beard is wrong with you!” Ginny panted as Hermione pulled her into the courtyard.

“I’m going mad Ginny!” Hermione whispered harshly as she sat on a cold stone bench and held her head in her hands.

Ginny quickly assessed her friends state and went into curious, but I’m still here for you mode. “What’s going on?” She asked as she took the open seat next to Hermione and rested a hand on her arm.

“I don’t know what to think about anything anymore. And I’ve tried getting by holding it all in but I just have to tell somebody something!” Hermione paused for a deep breath. “I had a huge argument with Malfoy over one of his younger housemates being harassed and abused by one of his older house mates. And seeing as he’s a prefect, I felt he should be aware of it and can take the proper actions.”

Ginny was frowning. “And I take it he wasn’t as understanding as you’d hoped he was.”

Hermione dropped her hands and sat up straight. “Exactly. He might as well have said that he didn’t care what Goyle did to the poor boy. That if he interfered then his _father_ would have something to say about it because of the boy’s parents.”

Ginny shivered at the thought of Lucius Malfoy. Her impression from her dad was that he was a very unlikeable fellow, very powerful, very manipulative and not someone you crossed without repercussions. Ginny almost felt sorry for prat that was making her friend so unhappy. Ginny sat up straighter as a thought dawned on her. Hermione didn’t look merely angry.

Her eyes were bloodshot and there were shadows under them, it was obvious that she had made not the smallest attempt to tame her hair, her bottom lip looked chewed and Hermione’s fingers were covered in ink and paper cuts. Hermione _was_ unhappy.

“Mione… don’t take this the wrong way because believe me I am always on your side and I agree with you that Malfoy is in the wrong here… but why is this affecting you so badly? It’s not the first time he’s been a jerk about something like this… but this _is_ the first time that I have seen you this upset over it.”

Rubbing her forehead in despair Hermione stood up and began to pace. “I don’t know Ginny! I have been so consumed with trying to get past it, I hardly sleep. Instead I work. I’m almost certain that I have finished reading every text book for the entire year and already made notes for the OWLS to go with them. Every time I look at him… I get a knot in the pit of my stomach like... like I’m going to get sick.”

Ginny wanted to chuckle but figured her life would be in danger if she did so instead she chose her next words very carefully. “Hermione please sit, you’re making me dizzy. Sometimes Slytherins can be really difficult to understand and in turn deal with and you went and got attached to someone with some serious pureblood baggage- No Mione just listen, I’m the expert remember? You began to see him in a new light and now he’s not lived up to them and you are understandably upset. You need to talk to him.”

Hermione lifted her chin in defiance. “I’m not upset!” she tried to deny but under Ginny’s knowing gaze she felt her resolve slip and allowed herself to fully feel what she knew she had been trying to hide. “I am upset and maybe even hurt. But it’s only because-“

Shaking her head Ginny stopped Hermione from explaining. “While I would love to know, I’m not the one you should be telling right now. That and we are going to be late to our first classes if we don’t break this up now.” Ginny gave Hermione a quick hug. “Once you’ve worked this out with Malfoy let me know. In the past month when you were working together you seemed more alive. Playful even. Laughing at Fred and George’s jokes and more willing to help Ron with his homework. That says something. Bye now!” and Ginny flounced away.

Realizing that her friend had given her much to think about Hermione began the trek to her first class of the day, hoping that it would be a quiet enough day, giving her time to sort through everything.

\--Now that Hermione was no longer angry she allowed herself to replay the conversation with Draco in her mind and new details began to stick out. The happiness in his eyes turned to pain turned to anger and the way his face had paled, his clenched fists and the stiff way he had walked away.

She was certain that he was not a coward but the way Ginny flinched at the mention of his father told her that maybe there truly was more to his side than she could have imagined. After all outside of the few at school she had never met a strict pureblood outside of school and the parents of her friends.

This revelation made Hermione very uncomfortable and her glances at Draco during the day went from disappointed to worry. She tried conveying her thoughts by catching his gaze but he never once looked her way much to Hermione’s disappointment. By the end of the last class Hermione knew that she would have to make this right somehow.

Mustering up her Gryffindor bravery Hermione waited at the top of the stairs that came from the Slytherin corridor, waiting for one angry blond haired prefect. She felt she had been waiting for a millennium, nerves on end with each passing minute. Loosing count of how many times she had straightened her robes and badge, fussing with her hair and touching her front teeth wishing that they were smaller.

Crookshanks eventually found her and Hermione welcomed the company as she waited nervously. And Hermione was indeed nervous. Not quite sure what she would say once he finally decided to show, she supposed that she would just have to muck through it on the fly.

Hermione had just begun to pace when Draco finally appeared out of the dark stairway. The sight of her gave him a brief pause but then he clenched his jaw and brushed past her.

“Draco Malfoy, wait.” Hermione said quietly.

And he did. Draco stopped walking and closed his eyes. “Come on Granger. We’ve got a floor to monitor.”

Hermione realized that he understood the significance of her being there at the staircase, waiting for him and no words of understanding or apology were needed for either of them. Giving a small smile she quickly stepped to his side and the two began the walk to their assigned floor in easy silence.

Draco couldn’t put into legible words how relieved he was. After an awful week of Hermione thinking the worst of him, losing the snitch to Diggory, and the long drawn out letter from his father explaining that he would allow him to finish this project with Granger but he was taking steps to insure that it didn’t happen again, Draco had not been ready to trudge the dark halls alone.

And seeing her there at the top of the stairs waiting for him, her curly hair everywhere, brows pinched in apprehension and arms wrapped around her waist while she paced. He didn’t want to let himself believe that she was suddenly ready to move on from their argument so he had walked by without a word. Until she had used his first name he was going to ignore her as she had wanted.

Now he had to fight to keep the smile off his face as he glanced down to see her walking next to him, her shorter legs trying to keep up with his longer ones.

“Curious. Exactly _what_ is that creature following us?” Draco asked as he gave what looked to be a cat a cautious look over his shoulder.

Hermione followed his gaze and smiled slightly at her feline companion. “This is Crookshanks.”

Draco wrinkled his nose at her. “Exactly what is a Crookshanks?”

Stifling a smile Hermione shook her head and ignored the question.

“Did you really finish the time turner presentation without me?” he asked instead of continuing to ask about the furry creature staring at him with a dangerous gleam.

Hermione looked up through her hair and shrugged sheepishly. “I had some… extra time. I’ll… I’ll show you tomorrow in the library and we can discuss changes to it…”

“I like that plan.” After a moment of silence he spoke again. “The sixth floor is one of my favorites.”

“Why is that?” Hermione couldn’t help to ask, genuinely curious. She didn’t particularly like it as it was where Professor Trelawney could be found babbling about how twisted the future was becoming.

“I enjoy the mysticism of it. The Astronomy Tower is my favorite of course but the use of magic here… used in ways few truly understand help me feel more connected to magic.”

Hermione watched his face as they stepped into the first corridor. “Malfoy you’re a romantic.”

He scoffed and shook his head. “Certainty not! You can’t deny there’s a mystery there in divination.”

“Hah the only mystery there is why anyone would ever believe that rubbish.”

“I take it that is why you dropped the class?”

“One among others.”

Draco didn’t push for more of an explanation as they were interrupted by a disconcerting sight. At the end of the hall was one Professor Snape walking next to Madam Rayna.

Hermione saw the two adults and quickly shoved Draco behind the corner and slowly peeking around the edge.

He hid a smile at the serious expression on her face and leaned next to her ear. “If I didn’t know any better I would suspect that you have experience spying on others from around corners.”

Hermione didn’t answer except with to swat him away. After a moment she turned away from the corner and leaned back against the wall with a smile. Sighing happily she turned her head to look at Draco.

“I sense a something wonderful happening between our stuff and overbearing professor and the talented madam.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Who is the romantic now?”

Hermione still high on witnessing love taking root, at least from her dark corridor that is how it looked, she only answered with a playful frown.

 

 

 

 


	40. By the Light of Prophecies

 

 

Following the sun across an ocean found a lone witch in a crowd of muggles one early December night. She stood with them, braving the cold and held her breath; her eyes along with everyone else were awaiting the seasonal tradition taking place in mere seconds. She didn’t mind the occasional nudge from the other watchers; in fact it was a welcome connection after long months of virtual solitude. There were people of all shapes and sizes, colors and backgrounds. Some with cameras and some with their families. A child perched on their father’s shoulders and lover’s holding hands.

Cold winter wind pulled at her loose hair and turned her cheeks red. The witch felt as if she had been waiting forever but she was determined to have this experience. The moment she had heard of such an event she knew she had to be there. She had tried to pay attention to whoever was speaking to the crowd but to be honest she could care less. They were not the reason she was here.

Then with a silent gasp her face lit with amazement and the lights of the tallest Christmas tree she had ever seen. Foot by foot the lights lit, traveling upward until at last the star perched far above shined for all in the city to see. With a smile to match the brilliance of the magnificent tree, the witch felt the joy of all those around her, the hope and celebration this tree lighting was meant to bring and she felt a calm peace after so much turmoil and heartache.

\--Back at Hogwarts a confident Hermione was going over her presentation notes rather than pay any attention to whoever was at the front of the class giving their own, hardly passable and cringe worthy speech about how to use magic to fix the perfect hair style.

Feeling the hair on the back of her neck stand on end Hermione glanced up to see who was staring at her. Across the aisle Draco caught her searching gaze and with a hidden gesture pointed at Lavender Brown and then rolled his eyes.

Hermione did agree that her dorm mates presentation with a clumsy Crabbe attempting to keep up with the energetic witch, was more than eye roll worthy but Draco should have been going over the notes she gave him and she told him so with a pointed glare at the neatly worded parchments on his desk.

Draco answered with another eye roll and turned away, Hermione shaking her head and turning back to her own. As she did she noticed the speculative look Harry was giving her. Hermione bent her head to her notes to avoid the embarrassment she was feeling at having been caught having a silent conversation with her partner.

Hermione knew why Harry disliked Draco, not so much because of house rivalry and the differences between personalities but because of Draco’s pureblood idealisms and his actions regarding them. Harry had made the attempt to befriend Draco early in their first year, however he had been brushed off with a snide comment in regards to his mother’s parentage.

Harry hadn’t wanted to believe his father about the prejudices of the Slytherin house but suddenly both he and Draco had ended up with detention that day. One for defending his mother and the other for doing as his father had taught him. The blood between them had been strained at best and downright cruel at worst.

Hermione remembered accusing Draco of buying his way onto the Quidditch team at so young, the way Harry pulled her back with agreement and that he’d prove it on the pitch. Draco lost his first game against Harry and now looking back on it years later Hermione wondered if Draco still hated Harry for it.

“Em, Hermione and Draco, your presentations if you please?” Professor Flitwick broke into Hermione’s wonderings. Quickly straightening her robe as she walked to the front of the class she stood beside Draco, and ignoring the whispers took the lead in a very detailed presentation about time turners.

\--The following weekend a very excited Hermione stood waiting in Hogsmead along with Draco, Shanta, Vance, an several other students, some familiar and many not. Their chatter in the background of her thoughts as she went over all the questions she planned to ask throughout the tour. To Hermione the Ministry of Magic was the central of the wizarding world to her.

It’s where different magical and muggle cultures from all over the world gather to exchange ideas, explore possibilities and enforce the safety of those with magic and muggles alike. And she had heard that their archives concerning endless magical information was endless.

When Hermione noticed the quick approach of Professor McGonagall she quickly straightened her pea coat and flattened her hair, to which her hair rejected the attempt and sprang back to its normal amount of wild.

The students quieted their various conversations at their teacher’s stern look and she went straight to the point. “You have been selected for a tour through the Ministry of Magic for your excellent achievements during the course of this semester. I expect nothing but your most excellent manners. You will not leave the tour, you will not touch anything, and you will not speak to any one without explicit permission from myself or Mr. Lupin, one of the ministers’ assistances. He will be giving the tour.”

McGonagall paused her instructions to look at each student for confirmation that they would obey these demands. Clearly satisfied she nodded toward an ordinary broom leaned against the side of a building.

“This broom is our portkey. We will take this to one of their designated portkey transportation offices and begin there. First we will meet with Minister Cornelius and after that a four hour tour before returning to Hogsmead with the portkey. Everyone ready then? Yes? I’m sure I don’t need to tell you how portkeys work. Come along, we don’t wish to keep Mr. Lupin waiting.”

Hermione in her excitement was the first at the broom, a wide smile in place. She was bumped and mushed between other students. When the familiar scent of buttered cinnamon scones assailed her she looked up and found Malfoy to her right. He looked down and rolled his eyes, clearly not sharing in her excitement. Hermione couldn’t resist the nudge to his ribs. “You’re crowding me Malfoy.”

Her cheeks turned pink when he didn’t answer with anything other than a wink. her scowl didn’t have a chance to scold him before everyone was holding onto the portkey broom on McGonagall’s mark and with all the sickening feelings that come with magical transportation that Hermione knew she would never become accustomed to, the group of students along with their professor left the snowy village and in a wave a disorientation appeared in a small room.

Once everyone had adjusted to their surroundings and straightened any askew clothing they followed McGonagall from the room, Hermione the first in line. There waiting for them was a wizard with gentle eyes, mussed sandy hair and startling scars on his face.

“Hello everyone, I am Remus Lupin, lead assistant to Minister Cornelius. I would like to welcome each of you and if you will follow me, the Minister would like to welcome you as well.” He seemed to have noticed the eagerness in Hermione’s expression for he gave her a kind smile then led the way to the lift that would take them to the Ministers office.

Hermione had seen pictures of the Minister in the papers and he didn’t look any different. And he seemed kind enough as he greeted the group.

“Welcome students of Hogwarts! As esteemed students I am sure you are aware of the many facets of the ministry. And no doubt some of you will seek to contribute to one of them as your career! Now then let me get a look at who we all have here. Let’s see here we have our head boy and head girl yes? Welcome indeed!”

Hermione watched as he gave them pats on the shoulder and listened as he asked after their families.

“Why Draco Malfoy! I am not surprised to see you here at all. I just arrived from a meeting with your father! We are having dinner at one of your family’s restaurants this evening. I’ll be sure to tell him I saw his fine looking son today.” Hermione had to scoff at his entire comment. Seems as if the Malfoys have no small bit of hold within the ministry then. Hermione ignored whatever else he said to Draco, waiting until he finally took notice of her.

Some students he knew, some he had heard of, or at the very least their families and Hermione was sure that he would have heard about her by now. Nearly six years now as head of her class. But that was not the case.

“And who do we have here with the untamable hair?”

Hermione swallowed her sudden apprehension. “Hermione Granger sir.”

“Granger. Hmm I don’t recognize that name. Your parents don’t work here then?”

Feeling her face burn and her eyes wide she shook her head. “No sir. They are dentists.”

Realization dawned on the minster and he nodded. “I see! Well with that I will leave you in the capable hands of Mr. Lupin. It was pleasant to meet each of you and I look forward to your contributions to the ministry!”

Before Hermione could process that she had been dismissed so casually, devastatingly casually compared to the others, everyone was ushered from the large office and following Mr. Lupin to the various entities of the British Ministry of Magic.

\---There was no doubt in Draco’s mind that Fudge had affected Hermione. He quickly noticed that she now followed the group instead of led it and while her excitement had once been obvious, she now had a frown instead. Draco sighed from his spot to the side.

Lupin was going on about the importance of the Magical Trading office, and Draco tuned him out and instead watched Hermione try to give her attention to the wizard but her eyes would flick to the side quite often.

He followed her eyes after a moment and a sly smile appeared. The lift to the Department of Mysteries. She was showing a great deal of interest in the only department of the Ministry that Lupin failed to go into a great deal of information about.

An idea formed in and Draco slowly moved closer toward Hermione, and waited for the moment when everyone began to walk forward. Seeing his chance Draco quickly put a finger to Hermione’s lips, silencing her as he grabbed her hand and pulled her the distance to the lift.

He crowded her against the wall with his body, ignoring her muffled protests and looked down the hall to ensure that they weren’t seen. Once the last student rounded the corner without any questions on the whereabouts of himself and Hermione he stepped back.

“Malfoy what is the meaning-“Hermione began.

“Come on.” Was his only answer and still holding her hand he pulled her into the lift.

“We can’t! We could- could be expelled for this!” she hissed at him once she realized his intentions.

“Do you want to see the real ministry or not?”

She bit her lip and stared up at him in silence and the lift began to descend.

“Hang Fudge and the rest. Think of this little detour payback for him not realizing that you are _the_ Hermione Granger.”

This brought her smile back in full. “And if we get caught?”

“Leave that to me.”

Hermione scoffed and turned away, finally pulling her hand from his to cross her arms. “You’ll pardon me if I don’t I’m sure.”

Draco’s hand felt cold at the loss of her warm hand but he shrugged. “I’m Slytherin. It’s what we do.”

Hermione turned to argue against that point when the lift stopped at its destination and Draco used it as an excuse to grab her hand again and pull her out and into the dark hall. She seemed to be speechless, at least for the moment as she slowly looked around taking in the entrance chamber.

“Come on lets go through this door.” She whispered and suddenly he was the one being pulled. They quietly entered a random door and then another and another.

The two whispered their theories of what the tank of brains were for and how they wish they had been to the chamber of time before their presentation. Holding hands the entire time. Draco wasn’t sure if Hermione noticed or not though he was certain that if she noticed that he had begun to run his thumb over her knuckles she would have surely pulled away.

He hoped she didn’t ever notice then because he quite liked holding her hand. It was small and warm. And brought to mind thoughts he had been pushing aside. This was the end of their time together.

Draco wanted to tell her and it wasn’t until she pulled him into the Hall of Prophecy that he realized that he more than fancied the forbidden witch. She was admiring the countless beautiful glowing orbs, each wondrous but eerily quiet. The way their light illuminated her made her look ethereal, someone from myths of gods and goddesses.

“Err H-Granger this… we should go find the others.”

Hermione nodded with a sigh. “You’re right. We are surely missed by now.”

Continuing to hold her hand he led the way back, retracing their path and hiding from the rare sight of an Unspeakable.

After they were back on the correct floor the two quickly ran down the various halls, drawing the curious attention of some, looking for the group of familiar faces. It didn’t take long.

They paused around a corner and Draco took the moment to bring up the end of their time together.

“This is it. The official end to our partnership.” He said slowly.

She glanced up and away. “Right you are.” She looked down at their clasped hands and Draco felt her squeeze his. “Thank you for the tour Malfoy.” And she let go and slipped unnoticed back into the crowd of students listening to Mr. Lupin discuss various dangers misusing muggle items.

Draco rubbed the back of his neck when he noticed Professor McGonagall watching him closely.

He followed at the back as everyone began to move forward once more through the law enforcement hall, his eyes on the back of whoever it was in front of him. He was not expecting a wide eyed Hermione to grip his arm and turn him to an enormous board covering a great deal of the wall.

Silently he followed to where she was pointing and there in the center of the board was a wanted poster with a picture of a witch with pale hair, her face expressionless.

 

\---The last day of school before the students left for winter break, everyone gathered in the music hall for the Christmas concert. Hermione sat between Harry and Ron, discussing the various holiday plans their families had written to them about.

The hall quieted as Professor Flitwick walked up to the podium and introduced Madam Darcy, to which everyone welcomed with a round of applause. The concert began with a round of traditional songs and ended with to everyone’s surprise Draco Malfoy playing a beautiful solo piece of _‘Twas in the Moon of Wintertime’_.

Hermione was enthralled by the amount of passion she witnessed him put into the simple yet elegant winter song. She ignored the snorts of laughter coming from her two best friends and enjoyed the sound of him playing.

She was happy that he took her bait long ago and auditioned for the chance to play. And he played splendidly. She was sad when his piece was over and she had to hold back her applause from outright cheering to polite. And even that caught her a glance from her friends who didn’t bother at all.

Their answer was a simple shrug but she couldn’t hide the smile as her eyes met his when he stood to take his bows.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N Don’t own the song. Just think its pretty.


	41. The Business of Owls

 

The time was painfully early, the air was awfully chilly, and a young wizards snores spoke of a deep content sleep. Wrapped in an enormous hill of white sheets and duvets he slept, deep in a dream. In this dream he was at the helm of an impressive frigate, which he fondly called _The Seeress_. He himself was garbed in what once would have been considered clothes of a proper eighteenth century English gentlemen. With a few more straps and buckles added for swords, daggers, and pistols. However many days spent in the hot sun covered in salty ocean water had worn the once fancy duds.

In this dream, he commanded a rag tag crew of dirty, foul smelling, yet loyal to the death men. Closing his eyes he took a deep inhale of salty ocean air, listening to the bawdy sea shanty his men sang as they expertly each worked at their assigned task.

“Sails!”

“Saaaiiiilllssss!”

His eyes snapped open at the call from up above in the nest. At last. “Ready the colors!” He commanded over the cheers of excitement. His _Seeress_ was powerfully built for speed and to withstand a heavy attack, that is if their prey were brave enough to make the attempt. Few were once they saw the menacing black flag unfold into the whipping wind.

_The Seeress_ and her captain made quick work of the small cutter and he stood with his quartermaster discussing the cutters manifest, which goods were worth making off with and which of the crew would take the little ship to be sold.

“Put me down! Can you not hear you loathsome beast! I said put. Me. Down!”

He shared a glance with the quartermaster and turned to see where the lady in distress was coming from. One of his stouter crew members was striding towards him, perched on his shoulder was a very lovely rump up in the air, covered in respectable flower print linen, feet covered in stockings and little black heels.

“You… you pirate brute! You disgusting cockroach! Sea… rat! I said put me down!” her insults grew louder until his crewman stopped before him.

“Well go on you scoundrel, give the lady what she wants.”

“Aye sir.” And there was more than one pleased chuckle as the lady was dropped ungracefully onto her rump. She didn’t stay down much to his surprise. She sprang back to her feet faster than he had ever seen for someone wearing that many petticoats and ruffles and with that much hair.

“You did that on purpose! Why when I get my hands on you you’ll be begging for the navy’s pirate necktie!”

He was incredibly amused at the real fear that was in his usually intimidating crewman and decided that he had better intervene before his man was disgraced in front of the other men.

“Correct me if I am wrong. It has been some time since I was in such polite society I fear. But I don’t recall ladies speaking of such things in the parlor.” He put on his most charming smile as the lady swept around to face him and he caught his breath.

She was lovely. But then she always had been even as a girl with her brown melting eyes, wild chestnut hair with glints of cherry in the sun, smooth cheekbones with specks of freckles, elegant neck, and a hard fist.

“Stand down lads!” he called to his men, his voice muffled as he held his nose. “That bloody hurt…” he whispered to himself.

The dreamer skipped to a new scene in his dream and his blood began to heat.

“I want off this cursed ship!” The lady hollered angrily over a torrential storm. Her hair was plastered to her skin, rain soaked her once pretty dress.

“If you want off so damn bad the go! I’m not stopping you anymore.” He stood equally angry and wet and so close to the lady that he could see the lightning in her eyes. Both ignoring the roaring waves and constant clap of thunder and lightning. Real and figuratively.

“How typical of you!”

“If you weren’t so set on leaving what I am trying to build for you-“

“This has never been about me. Always you- you left! Left me there to deal with your father-“

He could no longer stand it. She was stubborn and ridiculous and there was only one way he knew of that could convince her that he truly wanted to build a future with her. He took the last step and quickly wrapped his arms around her and his mouth landed on hers with all the power of the storm around them.

Never one to give in easy she pushed him away and stared at him angrily and he stared back helplessly. “It has always been about you. My father, your mother both at work to keep us apart. That… farce of an arranged marriage was too much so I…. I left.” He said and she took a step closer to him, the anger leaving her eyes slowly. So he bared his soul to her completely. “I attempted to make a life out here where my father couldn’t touch me. And tried to forget you. But I could never. Then I heard about a brilliant lady adventurer on her way to study ancient stones in the wild new world and had to see if it-“he was cut off as he caught her in his arms.

She hesitated a mere second before joining her lips with his, softly at first then-

_Peck… Peck, peck._

The wizard frowned in his sleep. The lady had pulled away, for some reason saying-

_Peck, peck, peck, peck._

The great mountain of blankets began to shift and the wizard fought to stay asleep. He wanted desperately to hold onto the dream. To see it through to the end. He had to give up when whatever wretched beast was brave enough to approach him gave a terrible screech, and Draco’s head popped out of his cocoon with a growl.

“This had better be life or death…” he struggled from the heavy coverings. Blinking half closed, angry eyes he used his wand for a bit of under aged magic to light his fire place, bringing a glowing warmth to his winter cold room. He turned toward the screeching owl and instantly forgave the pesky bird.

It was Skittles standing on the snowy windowsill, a brown paper package at her side. Quickly allowing the little owl entrance, Draco accepted the package. “Go warm yourself sky rat. I’m going to have to have a word with your mistress about acceptable times to send post via annoying owl.”

Draco ignored her answering peck and quickly settled back into his warm blankets, this time with the package sent from Hermione. He sat for a moment, staring at his name written with her neat handwriting.

His thoughts were on his dream, how real it had felt. He touched his nose, almost expecting it to still be sore from the hit it took, and his lips, almost wishing… no there was no almost to it. And Draco was ready to admit to himself that he could not deny that the Lady in his dream had been Hermione.

Shaking his head in frustration he focused back on the package and untied the string. Picking up a short note he read aloud.

Dear Draco Malfoy-

You were splendid! But I felt that your skill was not quite up to par. Give these a go and then we’ll talk.

-Forever Hermione

P.S. Merry Christmas.

“Not up to par! Sky rat you had better be ready to fly like the wind!” he complained already mentally writing his retort in his mind. Setting the note aside he picked up the sheet music the witch had sent him.

 

\---Hermione did not have to wait long for a reply from Draco. She wouldn’t admit it but she was a nervous. Only a small amount but the thought that Draco wouldn’t want anything to do with her gift had crossed her mind numerous times since she sent Skittles off into the snowy Christmas morning.

So she had remained at her spot at her bedroom window, watching the gentle fall of snow and waiting for the appearance of her little owl. The moment she came into view Hermione threw open her window and stood back to allow the bird room to enter gracefully, yet noisily.

She quickly picked up the small package Skittles had dropped after closing her window and she quickly opened it.

Forever Hermione-

A few notes to discuss here Granger. Number one: please research what most of society considers an acceptable time to send and or RECEIVE post. Number two: Please research less annoying creatures to send said post with. Number three: Not up to par!? There wasn’t a dry eye in the entire school when I finished that piece! Even Snape had to use his sleeve! Number four: Thank you for the Chopin. I had expressed interest in muggle composers when I was younger but Mother wouldn’t allow it. And number five: enjoy your present. I had planned to send it at a more human hour. Number six: What are your thoughts on pirates?

-Dear Draco

P.S. Happy Christmas.

Hermione rolled her eyes and set the note aside, in the package were two small books both appeared to be new _. Importance of the_ _Swedish Magic_ and _Swedish for Beginners_. A burst of laughter had a concerned mother knocking on her door.

“Hermione? Are you alright?”

“It’s nothing Mum! I’ll be down in a moment!” she said between chuckles and quickly set about writing Draco back. Skittles had little time for rest.

\---Dearest Draco

What are you, a child? Skittles couldn’t have possibly arrived any earlier than maybe nine am. And Skittles is lovely as you know. She is quite fond of you. Next point. Perhaps you are skilled enough for your mother to be satisfied but this writer is not so easily impressed. It’s a shame that you were sheltered from such brilliant composition because he was a muggle. Well I shall not tell if you won’t. As for my gift you must know that I will excel and become more fluent than you. And pirates…. The novelty of them is dashing and who could resist a life of dangerous adventure? But I would require frequent stops for a proper fresh water bath. Why? Are we to run off and become pirates?

-Forevermost Hermione

P.S. What are your boring holiday plans?

 

\--Dearest Hermione

Nine am is when those who are politely civilized are still sleeping away the festivities from the night-early morning! How could you possibly know that sky rat is fond of me? She is certainly plotting my demise. Do you…. Speak to owls? Because that may be a symptom of a more serious illness if you do.. Skilled enough for my mother… I’ll have you know I’ve been locked away in the dungeons for missing a note while playing for a garden party she was hosting. The dungeons! Have you ever been locked in one? And now I live in one for nine months out of the year so a little sympathy would be greatly appreciated. I expect to be able to hold a conversation with you in perfect _Sevenska_. No skiing in the Alps until you do. No particular reason for asking your opinion on pirates. I recently had a very in depth dream about them and some of it hit a little closer to the truth than I was willing to admit at first thought.

-Forevermost Draco

P.S. It’s my mother’s turn to host the family so I will be properly stuffed into dress robes and entertaining my cousins while the “grown-ups” become inebriated and make fools of themselves. Your plans?

Draco hesitated before sending his last one off. He had almost written something impulsive and foolish. In fact there was a small blot of ink where he had set his quill to write “If I asked you to, would you?” And he created a new kind of hell for himself with those words.

Feeling a knot twisting in his chest as he watched Skittles fly away he admitted to himself that he would.

 

-Mostforever Draco

It truly is a blessing to have parents that leave the office party at a decent hour, therefore allowing me the respectable amount of time it requires to keep me from turning into a terrible grump in the morning. I do pity your misfortune. I know for a fact that Skittle adores you because well… because she hasn’t truly tried to kill you. No. Ron she is out to end. Often times she will bring back a scrap of his hair or a piece of his clothes. Did these dungeons have clean floors, a warm fireplace, fresh air, comfortable bed? Because I wouldn’t expect anything less from the Malfoy estate. Fortunately for me I have already been skiing in the Alps and with my lack of knowledge of the local language. But I suppose I will learn for when I go back this summer. Were you a pirate captain, terrorizing the seven seas, charming the lassies with tales of danger and piraty politics?

-Estydear Hermione

P.S. You have more than one cousin? I am doing my families tradition of watching muggle Christmas movies all day.

Hermione waited as long as she could or Draco’s reply but none came. Skittles returned without even the smallest note and Hermione realized that she was greatly disappointed. She enjoyed writing to Draco and reading whatever nonsense he had to say back. And she was greatly curious about the sudden stop. At her mother’s insistence she joined her small family in the living room and snuggled between her mum and dad, ready to enjoy her holiday and put Draco from her mind.

As for Draco he realized that he had to stop writing he before it got them both into trouble. It wasn’t long afterward that his uncles Regulus and Sirius arrived with their families and Draco led Stephen and Altaria into the music room, far away from the adults.

With Stephen reading a book and Altaria perched on the bench beside Draco, he began to try his hands at Chopin.  


	42. Importance of Permission

‘Close your eyes and take a deep breath, focus. You’ve practically wasted the first half of the year. Okay now open your eyes and study. That’s it, transfiguration notes, read them and memorize. They have to be perfectly… why didn’t he write back? Wait what are you doing don’t look over there.  
Don’t… I wonder if he tried the music yet. I bet he did. He desperately wants to be rebellious. Wait who is he talking to? She’s… she’s very pretty. That is if you’re into girls with long straight hair and fluttering eyelashes. Is she honestly asking him to help with astronomy? Does she know nothing about him? Perhaps she’s asking him to read it for her because she can’t re- Gods Hermione what is wrong with you. Stop obsessing over Malfoy and get back to studying.   


He’s not what’s important here. Grades. That’s it. See? Isn’t studying wonderful? Wait. Where are my notes on vanishing? Damn. Did… did I give them to Ron for him to make a copy? I bet the prat lost them too. Hmmm I wonder if Draco will- I mean Malfoy have some. I should ask- wait. Are you insane? Not now. Wait until he’s alone. Oh. How perfect. He’s leaving and Miss-I-Can’t-Read is staying behind.’  


Leaving behind Stephen and her supplies at the library table Hermione quickly followed the departing form of Draco, muttering about how he needed to slow down when he disappeared around a corner. She looked around and stomped a foot when she realized that he had indeed vanished.  


“Are you following me Granger? It’s impolite.” His deep voice whispered in her ear from behind her.  


She jumped around with a yelp. “D-Malfoy! What are you doing hiding in dark hallways?”  


Draco smiled and shoved his hands into his pockets. “You would never make a very good auror. I knew you were following me from the moment you stood from your table in the library.”  


Hermione cleared her throat. “Yes well I’m in bit of a bind. See I lent Ron my study notes on using vanishing transfiguration before the holidays. He was “sick” that day if you don’t recall. Do you have any that I… could perhaps borrow?”  


He arched a single brow. “Stephen didn’t have any? I… noticed that you were studying with him.”  


Hermione’s eyes widened and she froze. Of course she could have asked Stephen. He would have undoubtedly had some. With an awkward laugh she smoothed a hand down her hair. “Of course I um asked him. A-and he did used to have some but he- he gave his to his girlfriend.”  


“Hmm he didn’t mention a girlfriend at Christmas. Who is it this time?”  


“Oh. Well I’m not sure. We are barely friends and he’s had… so many, many of them… look can I borrow them or not? I had written twelve pages of detailed notes and like a fool wasted them on Ron. I was in a good mood that day. Lesson learned. I really do not have the time to read twenty three chapters about vanishment. Not only am I preparing for OWLS, I’m still trying to find a new subject for my assignment for Bagshot since, thanks to you, and my original is impossible-“  


“Slow down Granger. It would be my pleasure to let you borrow my thirteen pages of meticulously written notes on vanishing.”  
Hermione replied with a narrow eyed glower. When all he did was stare at her with a pleasant smile she crossed her arms in impatience. “Well? Where are they?”  


His mock surprise was charming and she fought to keep her expression stern. “You wanted them right now? Well let’s see…” He made a grand show of checking his pockets. “Nope no notes on me. Unlike some students I abhor the use of illegal charms such as extension spells.” He gave a genuine laugh at her annoyed expression. “Come on. I’ll sneak you as close to the dungeons as I can.”  


She joined his side, hiding a smile when their arms occasionally brushed. The walk was quiet and long but not uncomfortable. Encouraged by the feeling, Hermione gathered her courage.  


“So… you never wrote back.” She could hear the breath he let out and looked up.

“I grew bored and fell back asleep. You did wake me at an unreasonable hour.”  


“Draco! It was not unreasonable! Merlin’s beard what were you doing all night?” Hermione’s laughter quieted when he didn’t return with his usual banter. Instead he stopped walking, a dim smile on his lips and nodded toward a nearby door.  


“Wait in there. I won’t be long.” He left before Hermione could answer or move. With a sigh she went inside and waited in the dusty supplies closet. Thinking about what she could have said to make him sad.  


—-Draco ignored the greetings of his house mates and quickly went to his dorm. Safe inside, away from prying and judging eyes he sat on the edge of his bed. His stomach was twisted. A feeling that he thought he would have become accustomed to by now but it just wasn’t so.  


It wasn’t her fault that she asked difficult questions that were easier to leave unanswered. How could he tell her that the night she questioned he was eating an engagement dinner with his arranged fiancé and their families?   


Shaking his head he pulled out books and journals until he came across The Great Phoenix War. The book Hermione had needed for her apprenticeship. He quickly picked up the book and his transfiguration notes and left to give them to Hermione.   


Outside the room he told her to wait in he stopped to think. He was getting in too deep. Time around Hermione, any contact at all was time where he thought of a different life. A life he couldn’t have. He stared at the books in his hands.  


Taking this book is what started all of this. It led to her writing him, led to her capturing his attention after so long pretending she wasn’t there. Perhaps giving it to the rightful owner was a sign for him. A sign that it was time to bring all of this to an end.  


—-She was growing impatient. Waiting in the small room waiting for Draco to return was agonizing. Hermione had listened to Slytherin students pass by, their footsteps, and conversations. Even an arduous couple snogging.   
It didn’t take long for her to lose all patience and conjuring scenario after scenario of what was keeping Draco from returning. She listened for the right moment to open the door, waiting for quiet and slowly peeked outside.  


A quick look showed an empty dungeon corridor so she flung open the door and stomped out, tripping on the books on the floor. Already prepared to be angry with Draco for failing to come back for her it melted away when she saw The Great Phoenix War lying next to a shiny leather journal labeled Transfiguration vol IV and a smile curved her lips instead.   


Her excitement was cut short however at the sound of approaching footsteps and she quickly took a longer path back to the library.   


Hermione was curious about why Draco chose to leave the books by the door rather than hand them to her. “Purebloods sure are a mystery,” she muttered as she retook her seat across from Stephen.  


He didn’t look up from his textbook but gave an acknowledging grunt. “I thank my parents every day for myself not being one.”  


Instead of replying Hermione opened the book of notes and admired the familiar handwriting, secretly impressed and grateful that he was a diligent note taker like her.  


“He played Chopin at Christmas you know.”  


Hermione looked up in surprise. “Pardon?”  


“I gather the muggle sheet music was from you?”  


“Why would I send Malfoy muggle music?” Hermione feigned ignorance nervously.  


Stephen looked at her and grinned. “Who said anything about Draco?” She glared and he chuckled. “Your secret is still safe for the moment. Just know that he played it flawlessly. The usual Malfoy way.”

\---One Month Later---

Ginny was becoming worried about her friend. Hermione was one of the few witches she could count on to not be jealous or petty, to give great advice and take her side when the occasion arose. She was also best friends with Harry… the wizard that has captured her attention from the moment she saw him all those years ago.

But lately something was definitely off with Hermione. Where before she was a diligent student yet still took the time to socialize, now Ginny only saw her briefly in the hallways or long enough for her to run into the Great Hall to grab a pastry before she was dashing back out.

Her brothers George and Fred were no longer being held in check with their experiments, Ron and Harry hardly studied, Lavender told the wildest gossip stories and she had missed Harry’s latest victory against Ravenclaw.

And Ginny missed talking with her about all of these things. And she had news for Hermione. Wondrous and fabulous news.

Making it her newest mission- now that she had effectively finished her latest mission of convincing Neville that he would make a brilliant professor and even someday Headmaster, after learning that he was third in his class, to discover where Hermione went every day.

Her first check was the library naturally, but at first glance, there was no wild haired witches present. Nor were there any in the usual studying areas. After checking the library one last time Ginny was ready to give up. This was not how she had truly wanted to spend her Saturday.

Heaving a sigh she leaned against the wall outside the library.

“Problem Miss Weasley?” A bored voice droned.

Snapping her head up, she saw Professor Snape staring at her with an impassive face. “Oh Professor Snape. No there’s not- no problems here.” He didn’t leave, only stared at her, seeing right through her evasiveness. “Alright… I’m searching for Hermione. I’m worried about her.”

There was a flicker of surprise in his dark eyes and his bored expression turned a bit fiercer than Ginny had expected. “Explain,” he demanded.

“Well… I haven’t seen more than a glimpse of her for more than a moment or two each day since we returned to school. And I can’t seem to find her anywhere…”

Ginny heard Snape mutter something under his breath when he looked away, a murderous expression on his face now. She tried to piece together what it was that he said, something about Merlin saving him from reckless teenagers.

“Talking about Hermione?” Neither student nor professor had noticed the approach of Stephen.

Ginny turned to him with hope. “Yes! Have you seen her?”

With a shrug Stephen nodded his head toward the library. “Of course. Come this way and I’ll show you.” He looked toward Snape. “You coming too?”

Snape flicked his teachers robe from around his feet. “Indeed.”

The two followed Stephen into the library, deep, deep, into the library. Ginny honestly didn’t even know that it went back so far. They turned corners and weaved through tables, eventually the quiet rustle of the other students studying was left behind and Stephen turned and held a finger to his lips and pointed to a bookshelf. First Snape looked around it with caution for a brief moment then without a word left.

Ginny felt a knot of apprehension as she looked around the bookshelf. What could Snape have seen that caused such a look on his face? But all Ginny saw was Hermione seated at a small table next to a stained glass window of a tree blooming with spring green leaves.

“Hermione! What are you doing?” Ginny yelped as she jumped from behind the bookcase. Hermione stumbled back from her chair with her wand on point, her eyes wide in surprise.

“G-Ginny? Why did you do that?” Hermione gasped as she collapsed back in her chair, wand clattering onto the table.

Shoving a laughing Stephen away until he left them alone, Ginny then stomped closer to Hermione. “I have been searching for you everywhere. It’s been ages since we had a moment to talk. The common room is a mess without you. First years are signing up every day for Fred and George’s experiments, Lavender is making up all sorts of stories about where you are. Harry and Ron are hopeless without you. You missed the Quidditch match. And I have missed you!”

Hermione sighed and let her head rest on the table with a thump. “I’m really sorry Ginny. OWLS are nearly here and I- I just want to be prepared.”

“I get that… But Hermione why are we way back here,” Ginny asked looking around the secluded little area.

Hermione was silent.

“Hermione?”

She sat back up with haunted eyes. “It’s the only place that was far enough away… so that I could concentrate. Everywhere else was too distracting.”

One of Ginny’s super talents was her ability to read between the lines and she read Hermione loud and clear. “You mean the distraction that is Draco Malfoy?”

Hermione glared. “I hate it when you do that,” she then sighed. “I thought we were becoming friends, finally after the disastrous first four years. We exchanged letters and advice and help and even holiday presents!”

Ginny pulled out a seat and studied Hermione, this was more serious than she thought possible. ”When are you going to start listening to me? Didn’t I say this was going to happen? I’m an expert Hermione… Never mind that now. It’s too late. Now all we can do is try to counteract all these feelings.”

“How do we do that?” Hermione moaned as she dropped her head back into her arms.

“You need a good snog. So good that it gets your mind off of Malfoy once and for all.”

Snapping her head back up Hermione growled, “We’ve already been over this. I am not so pathetic that I would use someone in such a terrible way. This is not a romantic drama from the television Ginny. This is my life!”

Holding her hands up Ginny stood and backed away slowly. “Fine, alright then. We will find another way but I’m telling you that I’m right on this.” Without waiting for her irritated friend to reply Ginny swept away regally.

As she walked for the exit she noticed the bright blond hair seated between book shelves alone. Ginny paused a moment to study him, searching for signs that he was just as messed up as her friend. What she saw was a wizard sneering at anyone that attempted to sit with him and then stared at the wall instead of the books in front of her.

Ginny knew that he was bad for Hermione. Rich purebloods like him usually were. But her friend was stubborn and the only way to get her out of this tangled mess of feelings for someone like him was to throw them together until she learned her lesson.

Decision made, Ginny checked to make sure no one was watching her and approached Malfoys table. He noticed her and gave her a glare that would shake the knees of anyone with a lesser backbone than herself. “Before you say anything Malfoy let me stop you with a shut up and listen. Hermione is at the back of the library. I can’t get her to eat, she hardly sleeps. All she does is study. You get back there and talk some sense into her before she gets sick.”

A satisfied smile in place when she heard his chair scrape back while she walked away.

\----Draco knew he shouldn’t be doing this. Going to Hermione after weeks of avoiding her. They hadn’t paid off, he still thought of her constantly.

The plea from the youngest Weasley though seemed to have been earnest, her worry sincere and if Hermione truly was working herself to the grave then he needed to at least try. He knew where she was, the farthest corners of the library where the other students never went.

He watched her a moment, the light filtering in setting the red highlights of her russet hair ablaze. The feather tip of her quill flicking back and forth as she wrote word after word, never pausing. Dark chocolate eyes focused and bottom lip held between her teeth.

She didn’t look particularly malnourished or sleep deprived. A healthy glow to her cheeks, and her eyes lacked dark rings. He scoffed lightly as he realized Weaslette had lied to get him back there. He knew he could and that he should turn away. But he didn’t

“Granger what is this I hear about you starving yourself for the sake of OWLS?”

Her yelp was satisfying as was her glower. “Would people stop coming back here? All I want is a moment of peace, and I am not starving myself. See?” she pointed to a tray on the next table stacked with various fruits and sandwiches.

“What about sleep?”

“Not that it’s any of your business… at least six hours a night, depending on prefect rounds.”

“Perfect now let’s just do this…” He reached over her shoulder and flipped her book closed. “Let us put this one away and open a much more interesting book. Have you started The Great Phoenix War yet?”

“No…” she muttered begrudgingly.

“Perfect,” he said happily and pulled a chair to her side. “Let’s open it shall we? I’ll point out my favorite parts of the intrigue leading up to the war. Quite a bit of spy versus spy back in this time.”

He noticed Hermione staring at him. “What? Is there something on my nose?”

“Why are you doing this Draco?”

“His face grew serious at the sound of her voice saying his name. “Say that again,” he demanded.

“Why are you doing this…?”

“Draco. You said my name. I want you to say it again.”

Hermione snapped her jaw together and her eyes grew stubborn. “Not unless you answer the question. Why are you here-“

“Because your weasel friend said you were on the edges of death from studying. I came to see if I needed to alert the hospital wing in order to save your life.”

“You honestly believed her? And don’t call her weasel… Why do you keep talking to me and then abandoning me in dungeon storage rooms… Draco-“

This time he had been watching her lips as she said his name and something came over him. Lighting fast his hands went to the back of her neck and he pulled her toward him, crashing his lips onto hers. She was still for a brief moment, just long enough for Draco to think he should pull away. Then she moved her lips just slightly and he realized that she was kissing him back.

The feeling was enough to erase all other thought from his mind, all he had left was senses. Her lips were warm and soft against his, as was her hair tangled through his fingers. She smelled of jasmine with a hint of parchment.

The kiss only lasted a moment before Hermione pulled away and instead of a love struck gaze like he’d hoped, instead she frowned.

“It’s impolite to just yank a girl to you and kiss her. What kind of rubbish have you been reading? Next time ask permission.”

“Err I apologize… next time I’ll ask.”

Hermione primly lifted her chin in acknowledgment of his apology.

“Hey Granger would you like-“

“No Malfoy! Just read the book!”


	43. Search Party

 

 

When she ventured out into the world eight months ago she had sought to discover all the wonderful experiences it could offer. What she found instead was a terrible and angry world with a frightening history. And an ever repeating of hatred. Corruption, deceit, death… everything that she had hoped to escape was found weaved into every corner.

An intriguing encounter with a handsome historian, and the mention of a rich mystical history of his people… she couldn’t resist. On her way to meet with her escort to the Apache reservation an hour from the city she had stumbled upon, she had heard the explosions from just nine blocks away. The shockwaves vibrating every cell of her body, the shower of broken glass falling from the windows above, and the ominous crack of concrete.

The sound had her looking around for the source, and what she found was a large piece of a building hanging precariously above a child and an elderly man. Both were huddled together in confusion, watching as vehicles with sirens and lights flashing sped by. She yelled for them to run but it seemed her hoarse voice was lost in all the other noise.

Her eyes widened in horror as the steel rods, they only thing holding the concrete in place, snapped with a sickening twist and she knew what she had to do, laws be damned.

The practiced twitch of her wrist and her wand was in her hand and her slash upward then to the side released a burst of red, the impact of her magic into the falling concrete created a shower of sparks and rubble. The resulting looks of amazement mixed with horror in the eyes of those around her had her frozen and breathing hard, her wand pointing at the ground still.

She took a step backward, then another. Before she could whirl around to run someone gripped her wrist holding the wand and moved it behind her leg. “Put that away.”

Turning her head she saw the man she had met the day before, her historian escort. Long black hair in a tight braid, serious dark eyes, and deeply tanned skin. He quickly picked a few shards of broken glass and debris from her hair. “Come with me and let’s see if we can help.”

Shock was all she could say she felt as she numbly hesitated. She looked away from her escort and looked around. Bystanders were either crying, or pointing at her. Realization at what she had done struck her and she nodded slightly. That gave him all the permission he needed and he gripped her upper arm and pulled her into a jog after him. Following the constant stream of emergency vehicles.

What she saw would stay with her forever. The agony in the air, the screams in her ears. The smell of fire and death. She had wanted to escape this, never wanted to feel this way again. It was all too much for her and an ache started in her head. The world around her began to distort and flicker.

She heard her name as she pulled her arm from his grip and fell to her knees holding her head. She sat there staring at it all, wishing it to go away. A familiar crack of light appeared in the air before her, causing her escort to jump back with a yelp, astonishment written on his face.

Studying the crack she stepped forward and reached out to touch it, not pulling back as it widened. She didn’t look back as she stepped through, unafraid, leaving the painful chaos behind her.

On the other side she smiled, for instead of a city in confusion and agony, she found what could only be the city of a hundred years ago. Everywhere she looked there were ladies in cotton dresses with bustles and bonnets, men with pistols on their hips and dirt streets. Turning she found her escort had stepped through behind her, eyes wide. “Wh-what have you done?”

 

 

\-----“Where is that blasted cat?” Hermione muttered to herself. “I don’t have time for this Crookshanks! OWLS are in fourteen hours! One is for eating, one is for getting ready in the morning, and six need to be spent sleeping and the rest are for studying! Not looking for you.”

Hermione was kneeled down on the floor of her dormitory searching under Lavender Brown’s bed for her missing pet.

“Just forget about it Hermione. He’s probably just out looking for a mouse to catch.” Lavender said from her relaxed position on her bed. She flipped to a page of her Witch Weekly and popped her bubble gum.

With a huff Hermione sat back and leaned against the side of her bed. “You may be right. But I haven’t seen him in days now. He’s never been gone this long.”

Lavender looked down when the worry in Hermione’s voice registered. “Have you checked outside? Sometimes the pets wander into the Forbidden Forest and get snatched up and eaten. That happened to Romilda Vanes rabbit. Not sure how it got out of its cage but there you have it. That’s why I’d never bring an animal here.”

She had turned back to her magazine in the middle of her ramble and missed the glare Hermione sent her way. “Thanks for the advice Lavender…” she said in sweet sarcasm. But the suggestion had merit and Hermione’s level of worry increased as she considered the thought some more.

Without another word she stood abruptly and left the room without another word. Lavender only rolled her eyes and grumbled about the frizzier the hair, the more likely to be rude.

Down in the common room there was the usual Gryffindor chaos, students talking loudly and laughing at ridiculous jokes, cries of victory or loss during games, cheers for Fred and George’s pranks, very few were studying she found. Hermione gritted her teeth at the irresponsibility of her housemates, particularly Harry and Ron who were fourteen moves into their wizard chess game.

She ignored Ginny’s wave of welcome and left the tower. Beginning with the present floor and making her way down took hours. Dinner had begun at some point, she could hear the murmur of students talking as they ate from down the hall, and she stood before the massive doors leading to the courtyard.

“Has Crookshanks truly left the safety of the castle?” She whispered and worried her lip.

“Is everything alright Granger?”

Hermione looked over her shoulder and froze. Every butterfly she had felt in the month since Draco had kissed her came fluttering back into her stomach in an instant. He must have just left the Great Hall. She had been a mess of nerves since then. And the memory flashed back to her.

The warmth of his lips and the pleased smile in his eyes. She had tried to concentrate on reading but had quickly given up and left him sitting in the back of the library without a goodbye.

Since then the two hadn’t spoke, every time she saw him she blushed and her hands shook. She hadn’t told Ginny what happened, never planned to. Hermione really just wanted to forget it all but she couldn’t. Her thoughts continually went back to Draco and how he was making her feel. She had tried to build up anger toward him, told herself that he was just playing with her. He wasn’t serious about her.

Draco hadn’t given her any indication that he was, he had gone on as if it were completely normal for him to share a rather intimate moment and then go on about his business. But as the month had gone on she couldn’t hold onto that anger. Deep down, she knew that she would rather be kissed by him again.

“Granger?” He asked again, taking a step toward her.

Hermione blinked owlishly as she stumbled out of her thoughts and turned back toward the door and took a deep breath. “Nothing is wrong Malfoy.” She said in a shaky voice, closing her eyes in embarrassment at how weak she sounded.

“Listen I think we should talk.”

Hermione sighed and turned to face him again. “Look I really don’t have time-“ She was cut off when her vision distorted and her surroundings flickered. She realized that she was having a vision only this one was terrible.

_“Draco is it them? Potter, Weasley’s boy and the Granger girl?”_

_She looked up and saw Draco standing near a fireplace, pale faced with dark circles under his eyes. His eyes flicked toward where she was kneeling on the cold tiled floor._

_“I don’t know. Maybe.” He said reluctantly._

_Then a terrifying woman with wild eyes entered and took command of the situation. Hermione felt the air sucked from her lungs when she ordered the werewolf to take Harry and Ron away, but to leave her._

_She tried to be brave, she truly did. From the moment the witches hand twisted in her hair and pulled her into the center of the room, till the first crucio._

The vision faded and left a shaking Hermione. When her attention was back to the present she blinked back tears and found Draco staring at her.

“I- I have to go.” Hermione whispered and then fled the castle into the early night.

Draco only hesitated a moment before following the quickly retreating witch.

“Wait!” he called out but she kept her pace.

“Crookshanks!”

“What are you doing?”

“Croooookshanks!” Hermione ignored Draco, giving all her attention to her search.

Draco sighed and shook his head. “Crookshanks! I can’t believe I’m doing this…” He muttered while looking around for a terrible looking orange cat, kneazle blend.

Hermione looked over toward him in surprise for a brief moment but continued to walk and call out her pet’s name. She only wanted to focus on one thing right now and she could not quite process what she had just seen.

So she wondered around the castle grounds, through a small gathering of trees, past a crumbling clock tower and down a small path. Draco following her every step of the way, occasionally calling out to her cat.

She wanted to tell him that if he truly wanted to help then they should split off but that would mean acknowledging his presence and she wasn’t ready for that. That was until he called out to her instead.

“Look at this!” he cried. “What do you think this is?”

Hermione looked past his finger to see a stone wall, covered in vines and blending in well with the trees surrounding it. There was an oval shaped entrance and immediately Hermione knew she needed to go there.

“Wait. Let me go first.” Draco stopped her with a hand on her arm.

She gave him a look that was filled with irritation.

“There might be spiders.” He said with a shrug.

Hermione shrugged off his hand. “I can handle spiders Malfoy. I’m going first.”

“Hey I found it. I get to say who goes first-“

He cut off as Hermione had ignored him and quickly stepped through the entrance.

Ducking his head low as the entrance was rather short for him, he followed the maddening witch inside what appeared to be a garden.

“It’s lovely. Magical even.” Hermione whispered.

A quick glance around told Draco that it was just an ordinary garden, similar to the one that his mother had at home. Instead he became enraptured by the wonder in Hermione’s eyes as she took in her surroundings.

“Crookshanks!” He swallowed at the happiness and relief that her face expressed, wondering how to get such a look from her when she saw him. She quickly ran to a corner of the garden and knelt in the grass. Beneath an old worn stone bench was her missing cat. And he wasn’t alone.

“What’s this? Crookshanks what have you been up to you sly one?”

Draco walked over with his hands in his pockets. Leaning to the side he looked below and let out a chuckle. “If I’m not mistaken then that is Parkinson’s cat. With a whole litter of Crookshanks offspring!”

He couldn’t help the humor he found in the situation and the glare Hermione sent his way only made him laugh more.

“Oh snap out of it Malfoy!” Hermione cried stubbornly before her face relaxed into laughter as well. “Sh-She is g-going to freak out isn’t she?”

“Positive that she will. This cat is a purebred and was supposed to be entered into some contest this summer.”

Hermione’s giggles echoed through the little garden as she laid back in the grass holding her stomach.

“Who’s going to be the one to tell her?” she said when she finally calmed enough to find her voice.

The amusement on Draco’s face quickly disappeared and he held up his hands, taking a step away from where Hermione lay.

“No. No, no, and no. I am not doing that. Your cat, your problem.”

“Coward.” Hermione muttered as she sat up.

Draco didn’t take offense. “I’m sure I will have to hear about it at some point. I’m putting it off for as long as I can.”

Hermione reached out and scratched Crookshanks on his back, his answering purr vibrating her fingertips. “You had me worried you know. I should be studying but here I am…”

Draco allowed silence to fall as Hermione watched the newborn kittens sleep next to Pansy’s cat. He had so much he wanted to say to her. Had been trying to for the past month but the time never came. Or perhaps he had just been avoiding her.

Guilt was clawing at him. Hermione deserved to know the truth to know everything about him. She deserved an apology from him for his actions in the library. Every time he thought he had mustered up the courage, to finally pull her aside and beg her forgiveness, he thought of how she had kissed him back.

And he lost the will to go through with it. He didn’t regret kissing her- Draco sighed in frustration and rubbed the back of his neck. These were things that he should be saying aloud for her to hear.

“Her- Granger can we… can we talk for a moment?” He said quietly.

She turned her dark brown eyes to look up at him. “Don’t worry about it Malfoy. I have no expectations toward you if that is what you want to talk about.”

In that moment everything he had wanted to say was gone. Replaced with denials that no that wasn’t what he wanted. What he wanted was for her to have expectations of him. He wanted her to want him, to argue with him about it. So quickly he thought of another course.

“Actually what I wanted to talk about what happened back at the castle a moment ago.”

Hermione stilled her hand on Crookshanks back and looked at the stone wall. “Oh… that…”

“If I’m not mistaken, something very… odd happened. And judging by your expression, it happened to you as well. I’ve experienced this… whatever it is before. Several times to be honest. But this time- was terrible.”

“Sit down Malfoy.” Hermione said with a tired voice, and she moved to sit beside him on the old bench. “What happened in your vision?” she asked.

Draco was quiet for a moment as he thought back to what he had seen. The conflicting thoughts that came with it. “I was in my family home… I appeared to be older. A year or so maybe. Everyone was different. My father looked… exhausted and broken. My mother, pale and terrified. No one talked unless necessary. There were people there, wizards and witches that made me afraid.”

When he fell silent Hermione glanced over to find his fist clenching and unclenching.

“You were there. You, Potter, and Weasley.”

Quickly realizing what he was about to say, she put a hand over his fists. “Don’t. You don’t need to say it. I think I saw the same thing.”

He looked at her with anguish filled icy blue eyes. “What does this mean? It’s almost as if I had another life. A life where I did horrible things. My family did horrible things and… they did them to you.”

Hermione couldn’t hold back any longer and she wrapped her arms around Draco and he returned the embrace. She had to admit that while she hadn’t had the most pleasant experience with him in the past, she much preferred this Draco to the one he was describing. Pulling back from the comforting warmth of his arms, Hermione began to think about the whole ordeal with curiosity.

“Something is off about all of this. We are missing something. When did you begin experiencing visions?”

“Last winter I think.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “That’s about when I did too.”

“The first one I had… my father was berating me because you were first in class rather than me. His techniques were… resourceful.” Draco said quietly and with difficulty.

Hermione looked at him sadly. “Mine was obliviating my parents and running away.” After a moment she giggled. “In one I punched you. Not sure about what but I did.”

Draco looked at her in fearful shock. “Stay back! I had that one too and it looked like it hurt.”

She smiled at him, bumping his shoulder with hers. “It looked like you deserved it.”

\-----The sound of birds chirping in the early morning sun had Draco slowly blinking his eyes open. He went to stretch his arms only to find his right one trapped, a delightfully warm weight settled across it and onto his chest.

Slowly comprehension dawned and he looked down to see a mess of brown hair spread across his shoulder, felt an arm across his stomach tighten for a moment as a cheek nuzzled into his chest. He followed the sight of his hand holding Hermione’s shoulder, down to her leg thrown across his thigh.

Draco thought back to how they had ended up in this situation. They had spent hours talking about the various visions they had experienced, some amusing, most were horrifying. They discussed possible reasons and theories into the early morning hours, both forgetting about the incredibly important OWLS they had in a few short hours.

Eventually they had moved from the bench to lean against the stone wall, shoulder to shoulder. That was until Hermione had drifted asleep, her head leaning against his shoulder and his instinct had been to wrap his arm around her back. How they came to be laying down and tangled together.

He wondered what he should do. The proper thing to do would be to wake her and apologize. For what, he wasn’t sure but it seemed like what a gentleman would do. But really he wanted to stay like this forever. Just the two of them.

The distant sound of bells shattered what he really wanted though. With a gasp, Hermione sat up and wildly looked around at her surroundings.

“No, no, no. This cannot be happening.”

Her frantic mutterings had Draco smiling and he gave a show of relaxed contentment as he stretched.

“Good morning there Granger. Sleep well?”

Hermione twisted around, tangling her leg through his further. Her answering squeak sent her scrambling to stand up, brushing her hands over her wrinkled robes. “Malfoy! What did you do? Wait never mind. What time is it? That bell… dammit! Breakfast… wait.”

Draco rested his hands behind his head enjoying the changing expressions on her face. Suspicion to curiosity to horror.

“OWLS.” She said simply and her horror became his own as he realized that they were late for OWLS. He quickly sprang to his feet and grabbed Hermione by the hand to pull her after him.

“I’ll be back Crookshanks!” she hollered back to her pet, stumbling after Draco.

The two students ran as fast as they could, back toward the castle and through the front doors. Without hesitating they burst through the Great Hall doors, both gasping for breath. Every eye in the Hall turned to stare at them. Professor Snape paused as he was handing out test to the students.

“Ten points from both Gryffindor and Slytherin. Take your seats immediately.” He said with a dangerous tone.

Hermione turned bright red and bowed her head till her hair covered her face. Whispers followed her and Draco as they moved to the only two empty seats in the Hall. Both did their best to ignore the stares of their friends. One particular glare however captured Hermione’s attention as she picked a stray leaf from her robe.

Next to her sat Daphne Greengrass and the fury in her eyes made Hermione very nervous.

 

 

 


	44. The Spirit of Adventure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N So sorry for the delay of this chapter! Many huge things going on in my life plus I took on writing another story and I’ve never been the best at managing my time so please accept my heartfelt apologies!

 

 

 

 

 

Birds were singing their early morning song as the August sun began to light the cloudless sky. Hermione heard the ring of the newspaper boy’s bike bell and the answering bark of the neighbors Scottish terrier. They day showed promise to be beautiful and perfect to fill with last minute summer plans. Instead of looking forward to a day at the pool or enjoying a book at the park, the young woman with untamable hair and wide brown eyes rimmed with dark circles sat in the middle of her bedroom floor.

The trunks for the next year of school were stuffed full with books, supplies, uniforms, and clothing for the weekends. Crookshanks laid lazily on her pillow, unaffected by his companions torment. Spread on the floor before her were twelve sealed envelopes, each addressed to her in achingly familiar script.

Hermione liked to think of herself as a brave person. Leaving home for a life in the wizarding world that she had barely known existed at such a young age she had to be. Ability to move that bravery to her prefect responsibilities and send much older Slytherin offenders off to detention. No, Hermione had never thought of herself a coward until this last summer.

Afraid to read the letters. Afraid to confront their sender. Afraid to stand up to the reason why.

Hermione sighed and propped her chin on her knees as she hugged her legs. Her fear had led to so many feelings she wasn’t used to feeling. This past summer she had been wracked with guilt, jealousy, and anger. Well maybe she was a bit familiar with anger as Ron and Harry constantly relied on her. Maybe she would consider talking to their parents about it… again.

She was expected to go to the Potters that evening before heading to the Weasley’s with Harry in tow for their last night of summer. A bit of a tradition for her and Harry to travel to Kings Crossing with the chaos that is the Weasley family. The thought brightened her somewhat but then she was reminded with how little sleep she had had in the past week and groaned at the thought of the energetic family.

Memories and churning thoughts had been allowing Hermione very little peace. Pleasant dreams continued to elude her and instead she was haunted by a young girl with hair like snow telling her that she was ruining everything.

Another sigh escaped when her thoughts turned back to the scattered envelopes and how she came to be in such an exhausted and torn state.

_Four months before…._

 

“Do you think I will ever live this down Harry?” Hermione grumbled from her seat in the Three Broomsticks. She had her head bent low to her mug of butterbeer, trying to ignore the stares and whispers.

Before Harry could reply the chairs on either side of her were pulled out and quickly became occupied by two identical faces.

“Not so sure bout that Granger.” One of them said as he reached across the table and snatched Ron’s own mug and took a sip.

“Hey! Get your own!” A red faced Ron yelped out.

“Yea Granger you should say goodbye to your sterling reputation.” The other twin reached over and flicked Ron on the ear, chuckling when his younger brother swatted at his hand.

“The whole school knows you spent the night with a certain Slytherin. Dare I say… dreamy Slytherin.” The suggestive tone caused her to bristle.

Hermione quickly looked between the two twins then looked at Harry helplessly before looking back at the twin on her right. “I did not do what you are implying George!”

Her defensive words only made the twins chuckle. “Over here love.” The twin to her left said with a grin.

“And where is your mind Granger? Nothing was implied by us.”

“And I don’t hear you denying that you were-“

“In fact with the Slytherin whom we shall not name-“

“After hours, presumably all night-“

“Arriving together scandalously late for OWLS-“

“Alright that’s enough give her a break.” Harry finally broke in with a roll of his eyes. To be honest he did it more for their own sake than Hermione’s. Had noticed the way her jaw was locked and her narrowed eyes as she stared straight ahead.

Fred and George shared a wink before allowing the subject to change and giving the fuming witch a moment to unclench her fists.

“How are the plans for opening the joke shop coming?” Harry asked as he chewed on a chocolate frog.

“Spectacular, smashingly, couldn’t be better.” George said with excitement.

“The anonymous donations we have been receiving have really moved forward the time table.” Fred added.

“Really?” Ron piped in.

“With the amount of product we have been storing and all the ideas still to come-“

“And the Gringotts account is looking rather plump-“

“We look to be opening by the end of summer.”

Hermione looked at them in surprise. “Fantastic you two! Brilliant time to open up a shop too. All the students-“

“Stocking up on lots of our products to keep you busy next year.” Fred grinned.

This comment gave Hermione a pause as she realized that he was right and her glower returned. “If you- you know what… I’m going for a walk. I think I see Neville struggling with gifts for his mother. Here Ron you can have the rest of my butterbeer.”

And she left before she could become any more frustrated with the mess she was in at no one else’s fault other than her own. The thought of chasing down unruly pranking students was already exhausting her as well. Neville was of course not anywhere in sight and she doubted any of the four boys left at the table had actually believed her anyways.

The last Hogsmead weekend before the end of the term in two weeks was relatively tame. Several students milled around the main street, arms linked with friends and sharing laughter. A few couples shared looks and entwined fingers while they explored the small village. Shoving her hands into the pockets of her blue jeans Hermione pushed the small pang of envy to the side.

She wasn’t one to pine after boys and believe that she had to be in a relationship to be fulfilled. It was already enough to keep her grades as well as her friends in line. But she couldn’t deny that it hadn’t been nice to share secret intimate moments with someone. Hermione could still remember the warmth and scent of Draco, the silence as well as the companionable words.

As nice as all of that had felt, the embarrassment of every fifth year and professor eye on them when they burst into the Great Hall was infinitely worse. Hermione still felt the mortification, the horror and her hand had shook so much during OWLS she was certain to have failed. Afterwards she had made it her life’s mission to avoid Draco more than ever.

Naturally that was impossible. They seemed to gravitate toward each other. The two weeks since their legendary entrance she had found herself in his company every day. Whether it was on the way to the final Quidditch match where he pulled her to the side and they ended up watching Hufflepuff lose to Gryffindor together from the shore of the Black Lake, or her cornering him and demanding why he had given a first year permission to order food from the kitchens.

Shaking her head to chase the thought away she began to make her way toward the end of the village. A long walk back to the castle was just what she needed. For the most part she was left alone, the occasional whisper and stare was easy to ignore. It was when the entire school was doing it at the same time that Hermione grew flustered.

“Listen kid tell me your name. Andrew? Alright that’s a good name.”

Hermione’s ears picked up the familiar voice nearby and on instinct she looked for where it was coming from. Around the corner was the overgrown pathway that led up the hill to the Shrieking Shack. Seeing Draco halfway inside one of the broken and once boarded up windows Hermione felt worried curiosity. It didn’t take her but a moment to jog up the hill and join him.

“What’s going on?”

Draco pulled out of the window to see Hermione standing next to him. She could see the apprehension in his eyes.

“There’s a student inside, looks to be one of your first years. Andrew familiar?”

Hermione’s eyes widened and she flew at the window and looked around the condemned house wildly. There on the stairs stood Andrew Seeber in the middle of a staircase that Hermione was certain could no longer be considered safe. The young wizard stood with both hands clutching the rail tightly, his brown eyes were wide with freight and his breathing was heavy. Each time the rail would give a wobble he gasped and squeezed his eyes tightly shut.

“Andrew! Stay right there I’m coming in!” Hermione said in the calmest voice she could muster and began to push herself through the window. Hands gripped her waist and pulled her back quickly.

“Are you mad? Look at that floor Granger!” Draco snapped with a touch of anger.

Hermione looked at him incredulously. “I don’t care if bloody Snape himself is laying naked on that floor Malfoy I’m going in after that boy! Honestly why you weren’t already in there I haven’t the faintest clue but Andrew needs me and I’m going in. Now if you will unhand me…”

“Stop being so rash and look at the floor! It’s not safe-“

“Precisely why I’m going in.” She said with a stubborn tilt of the chin.

Draco groaned as he ran both hands through his hair and paced away from her in frustration before walking back toward her.

“I haven’t time to debate this, now step back.” Hermione tried to gauge the best way to enter the small opening and decided headfirst was the easiest way. With the first half of her body inside the shack she tried to wiggle her hips over the sill, using her hands on the floor to pull herself in. With a grunt she realized her hips were a tad too wide and tried to call back to Draco for help.

“Excuse me, Malfoy, if you can do it in a gentlemanly way would you please assist me.” A blush tinged her cheeks at the thought.

Amusement colored his voice as he set his palms on her rump. “As you wish your highness.” And he gave a hard push.

Hermione hadn’t been prepared for the sudden lurch her body gave and she tumbled forward onto the shaky floorboards covered in a cloud of dust. Quickly pushing herself to her knees she glared over her shoulder to a laughing Draco pulling himself through the window after her.

“That was hardly necessary.” She grumbled and dusted herself off as best she could.

“Oh but I’m certain that it was. But later on that. Now do you see why I was trying to keep you out of here? There’s more boards missing than there are in place. The ceiling looks ready to fall down onto us at any moment-“

Hermione rolled her eyes and held up a hand to make him stop his tirade. “Yes, yes, and yes I get it, this is all very dangerous and we could die at any moment – exaggerating Andrew, I promise you we are far from dying this day. Malfoy if you are so scared feel free to wait outside. Now if you are done I must get to Andrew before those stairs collapse.”

He answered her with a glare before letting out a defeated sigh. “Fine, have it your way. You wait at the bottom of the stairs and I’ll go up and get him.”

Hermione rubbed her hands together and nodded in agreement. It wasn’t exactly the most thrilling situation but the adventurer in her was secretly enjoying herself. She knew the danger, any moment the old building could fall around them. There was a reason why Andrew was more than likely in here on a dare. The place was rumored to be the most haunted in all of Britain.

Looking around Hermione noticed countless scratches in the floor and walls, long slashing marks. Boards seemed to have been ripped up and flung across the little room, light fixtures torn from the ceiling, furniture that looked to have been smashed to splinters. A very unsettling scene played through her mind at what sort of creature could have caused all of this.

“Alright Andrew, my name is Draco and I’m a fifth year prefect. I promise you aren’t in any trouble I just need you to stay calm and listen to me. Can you do that?”

Hermione watched as the young boy clung to every word Draco was saying and gave a small nod of agreement.

“Perfect. You need to stay perfectly still and I will come to you and help you down to Miss Granger, understand?” At the boy’s nod Draco slowly took each step, pausing when one gave a wicked groan.

“Perhaps you ought to skip that one.” Hermione called helpfully.

“Agreed.” Draco muttered before reaching a hand out to Andrew who refused to let go of the stair railing. “I need you to take my hand so that I can get us out of here. I’m going to hold onto you until Miss Granger can reach you and then she is going to help you out the window.”

Hermione gave a small smile when Andrew nodded silently and held out a shaky hand to Draco.

“Slow now, take each step carefully and ignore the sounds, I promise nothing will happen to you.”

Hermione held her hands out to Andrew when he was within reach, a pang of relief spread through her once Andrew was on the floor with her. Quickly she glanced over him, pushing his brown hair off his forehead to look into his eyes. “Are you alright then? Just a bit scared? Don’t worry we are almost out of here. See that window? The one we came through? Why don’t we-“

She was cut off by an ominous sounding crack of splintering wood and swung her gaze back to Draco who was still in the middle of the staircase though he seemed frozen in place while staring down at the stair he was in.

“Draco be careful, you need to get down.” Hermione said, her voice rose slightly in panic.

At the use of his first name he looked up sharply and opened began to say something that became lost in the sound of the stairs giving away and Draco falling through them. Hermione didn’t think but shoved Andrew toward the window.

“Get out now Andrew! Run!” She wanted Andrew push himself out of the shack window before moving to the next step to look for Draco.

“Draco!” She called in panic.

Hermione had expected to find Draco there on the same floor as her with splinters of wood all around. Instead she found a hole where the weak floor had given way to Draco’s fall, sending him further down into darkness.

“Draco! Answer me!” she felt the flood of panic rising in her chest. She needed confirmation that he was alright before she could begin to think clearly of how to rescue him.

“I’m alright…” He called back at last.

A wave of relief cleared her panic and Hermione searched for solutions. “There has to be another way down to the basement other than falling through of course.”

He answered back with an “It worked great for me.” That Hermione chose to ignore and looked around the small room. A pile of curtains that were torn to shreds caught her eye and she went to investigate, cautiously of course. A light kick moved the pile of rags from a door in the floor which looked to be in no better shape. The screech of rusted hinges echoed and caused Hermione to cringe at the sound.

A groan of despair left her chest at the sight of more stairs that led down into a incredibly dark basement. It didn’t take more than a second to have her wand in hand with a lumos lighting the tip and slowly she made her way down into the darkness.

There to her right and luckily next to the foot of the basement stairs laid Draco amongst the dirt and shattered wood and she could tell immediately that he was not in condition to be considered alright.

“Malfoy! You’re covered in blood!” Hermione knelt at his side and looked for the wound. Just above his temple was a ragged gash with a steady stream of blood covering his hair and neck. She noticed his labored breathing and how pale his face looked. Another inspection and she saw what looked to be a broken leg and suspected his ribs might be injured as well.

“Merlin… we’ve got to get you out of here. First we need to get the bleeding to stop. Are you still with me, open your eyes Draco.” Hermione leaned over and gave his cheek a light pat.

“Draco opened his eyes to slits and nodded the smallest of nods. “Still here. You- You said my name.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Really is this the time for that? Do you have anything we can put on that wound?”

“Nothing.”

Hermione bit her lip and looked down at herself. The weather had been wonderfully warm so she was dressed in a t-shirt and jeans. “Here I suppose I’ll have to rip off a piece of my shirt.” With a grimace she quickly ripped off one of her sleeves and held it tightly to the bleeding gash. “There do you think you can hold that while I help you up?”

“I can manage.” Draco replied quietly.

Hermione knew he must be in a great deal of pain and his gasp when she tried to help him sit up made her lay him back down.

“Hell woman are you a witch or not? Levitate me out of here.” Draco said around deep pants of pain.

Hermione shook her head and sighed. “I really don’t enjoy using magic on other people, taking away their control but alright, I’m ready to get out of here. Hold still.”

Moving Draco careful up the stairs and through the window was excruciatingly drawn out. Every moment she felt as if they would fall through the floor once more and be back to where they were. Their luck seemed to have turned however as they were both able to make it back to the safety of the hard packed earth outside the shack without more incidence.

Grateful to at last be able to set Draco on the grass and release her magic from him Hermione sat beside him and looked him over again. It wasn’t a moment later that Professor Snape and Madam Rayna were hurrying up the path, little Andrew hot on their heels.

“Are you both ok?” Rayna asked with worry as she knelt beside Draco.

Hermione looked from her to Snape with wide eyes. “I’m fine but Draco is hurt. Seriously too if his loss of blood and heavy breathing is any indication. He fell through the stairs and down into the basement.”

Snape looked past her and lifted his wand to Draco. “I want both you and Mr. Seeber in my office by the time I get Mr. Malfoy admitted to the hospital wing.”

Hermione swallowed but gave a clear ‘yes sir.’

\----The interview with Professor Snape went as well as to be expected. He questioned them relentlessly for the whole story. Just as she had expected Andrew had been pressured into a dare by his classmates and once he made it to the top of the stairs the others had scurried off leaving him behind and scared.

Draco must have heard his pleas for help on his way back to the castle. Hermione thanked Andrew for going for help and the potions master had sent him off with a warning. As for herself the professor merely nodded that she was excused and she immediately went for the hospital wing to check on the hero.

She found him at the front of a long line of medical beds, his leg already in a cast and propped on a pillow, his chest was bare except for the linen wrapped around his torso. His head wound was wrapped up thickly and multiple scrapes and bruises colored his skin.

He seemed to have been sleeping but opened his eyes when he sensed her approach and a cocky grin lifted his lips.

“Come to see my handiwork?”

Hermione sat in the chair next to him with a huff. “I should have been the one to go up the stairs.”

“Why is that?” he asked with a lifted brow.

“Because I’m much smaller and less likely to cause the floor to fall apart.”

“I’ll keep that in mind the next time we go on a rescue mission.”

Hermione smiled and stared off into space. “It was exciting wasn’t it? A certain thrill to all the danger we were in.” Her gaze focused back on Draco when he didn’t answer. She found him staring at her like she had lost all sense.

“Perhaps you would think otherwise if it was you all bundled up in bruises and gauze.”

Hermione had the grace to give an apologetic cringe. “How long must you were the cast?”

He shrugged and watched his toes as he wiggled them. “The break wasn’t bad and with the healing draught being tossed down my throat I won’t have to wear it more than a couple of days.”

“No permanent damage then?”

“None.” He fell into silence as she nodded her relief. She noticed his studying glance and could see he was attempting to broach the topic of her using his name for the first time.

Honestly she couldn’t see why it was so serious but she knew it was. Never, not once in the time that they had known each other had they ever been anything more than last na          mes. Calling her friends by their first names had never been an issue for her but there was a sense of intimacy to calling Draco’s name out loud.

“Listen about-“ he at last began but was cut off by the arrival of Theodor Knott and Blaize Zabini.

Hermione stood to leave, giving Draco a pained look and went to move past his friends. She was halted when Theo grabbed ahold of her arm and she looked up. She could see the concern in his dark brown eyes and she answered the silent question with a reassuring smile and nod. At this Theo released her arm and greeted Draco with a stern frown.

Once outside the closed doors to the hospital wing Hermione leaned back and sighed deeply.

She wasn’t left in peace long.

“You must be the famous Miss Granger to which I have heard so much about.”

Hermione snapped her head up at the man’s curious tone and her eyes immediately widened in apprehension. Stood before her in expensive robes and long pale hair had to be none other than Draco’s father. He waited for her response with a bored lift of his brow which reminded her so much of his son. She gave a small nod.

“And you are-“

“Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy.”

“A pleasure sir.”

“Indeed it is. I feel I must have you to give my thanks for the rescue of my sometimes foolish son.”

Hermione began to feel that he was much more pleasant than she would have always believed and gave a sheepish shrug.

“Rumor has it that you are at the top of the class and already seeking apprenticeship with Madam Bagshot. As an historian if I remember correctly.”

“That is correct sir.”

He gave a polite smile before walking closer to her, causing her to bend her neck back to meet his now serious gaze.

“I am going to let you in on a little secret Miss Granger. I have moved forces beyond your knowledge and comprehension to allow my son the life he deserves. This leaves you with a choice. As one of Madam Bagshot’s more prominent sponsors’ in her endeavors, I would like nothing more than to grant her the funds to take on a brilliant and promising new apprentice.”

With each word the elder Malfoy said Hermione had felt more and more blood drain from her face. It was a threat to keep away from his son. A threat that she received loud and clear.

 

 

 

 

 

 

%MCEPASTEBIN%


	45. A Lonely Return

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N Ahoy! I feel terrible about yet another long gap between chapters. The good news however is that the summer is winding down therefore the amount of time I have is growing. Looking forward to finally getting some more out there. Anyways please enjoy :)

“Where do you want to go once you’re tired of exploring the nineteenth century? Not that I’m complaining ya know. It’s been… an adventure getting a firsthand view of the past but… I would give just about anything to have a real shower and AC.”

The witch gave a light laugh at her friend’s complaint and readjusted herself on her bedroll, picking a rather large stone from under her shoulder. Her laughter died out and she studied the stars, the year was right for the Seven to shine from the night sky and their twinkling show as brilliant.

“I thought you would be in your element here.”

“Believe me I’ve spent many days and nights out in the outdoors. Doesn’t mean I liked it. Nope this part Sioux, somewhat part Irish cowboy likes his modern comforts. Like cold beer and the Cowboys winning the Superbowl.”

“I refuse to ask what a bunch of westerners want with a bowl that is allegedly super.”

The two fell into silence after their light laughter faded away into the night, each were thinking about their lives in another time. One was missing his family. The other almost desperate to have her memories fade to gray.

“The sky is so open here. Even in the wizarding side of the world everything is hazy and difficult to see. As if magic is covering the view of the stars just as much as pollution.” Silence fell and she thought about the Sisters. Moving her head she looked toward her companion who was laid in the opposite direction, his long black hair spread next to hers. “Do you see the Taurus constellation?”

There was a moment of quiet before he gave a light grunt. “The Lost Boys?”

“I’m terribly sorry but I fear I must tell you that you are wrong.”

Intrigued he raised to an elbow and looked down at her. “I’m offended by your attack on my beliefs.” He said, smiling at the witch’s laughter. It wasn’t often she laughed this much in such a short time. “Alright if they are not in fact the Lost Boys, then who are they to you?”

“Beyond the Seven Sisters? My mother and six aunts.” She answered with a serious face while holding back a smile.

“As someone who has practiced magic his entire life at the side of his shaman grandfather, I believe you.”

“Just like that?”

He gave a shrug and lay back down. “I’m interested in how you know, but something tells me the story isn’t an easy one.”

Her light hum confirmed his thoughts and both let the subject drop until she was ready to tell the whole story. This was the first time she had given any of her past to him during their months together in the past.

“Where are we even at?”

“Well let’s see. Surrounded by cactus and yucca plants… Somewhere in the desert,” he answered.

“Very funny. Where at in the country? Never mind… it’s actually quite nice not knowing where one is.”

“Or when one is.”

The witch made an apologetic smile even though he couldn’t see it in the darkness. “Again… sorry about that.”

“Yeah, yeah… forgiven.” His tone let her know that he was taking everything in good humor.

“El Dorado.” She said after a long stretch of silence.

“Huh?” He asked with a sleepy voice.

“I want to find El Dorado. The legend absolutely screams magic and adventure. And I think the past is where I’m supposed to be. Why else would I be able to move between the cracks so easy?”

“So… going further back?”

She turned to lay on her stomach and elbows. “Further back.”

“Further away from air conditioners and hot showers?”

“Afraid so. Will you come with me?”

“Kinda like too but first-“

“Well, well, well what do we have here boys?”

The witch and her companion froze at the new voice and slowly looked to side. Barely visible by moonlight was a group of four filthy men, each with six shooters strapped to their legs and their trigger fingers rubbing the worn leather holsters.

“Well Robbie… looks like we got ourselves an injun and the woman he musta stole from that miners town a ways back.”

The two immediately rolled to their feet but before she could reach for her wand and him his spirit stick, an heirloom passed down to him from ancestors much older than this century, they heard the click of four hammers being pulled back and froze once more.

“Sir’s if you would please just allow us-“

“Ooooweee we got ourselves a duchess! What’s someone as fancy as yourself doin out here with a heathen?” The one named Robbie said.

“We have done nothing to you and your friends.” Her companion made an attempt for the filthy smelling men to see reason.

A gunshot rang out and the dust by their feet flew into the air.

“The next one will be in your gut if you speak again injun.”

The witch felt her fingers begin to tingle with anger and her breathing deepened.

“I looked past the first time, this time I’m warning you; do not call him that again.” She said in a dangerous voice. All this earned her was a chorus of rowdy guffaws.

“What do you want?” her only friend in this time and the present asked but instead of an answer a single shot rang out and she watched in horror as he doubled over against her and slowly fell to the ground with a solid thud.

“What have you done?” she asked hoarsely. Before they could answer she turned wide eyes flashing with hatred and she slowly pulled her wand from her sleeve and pointed it at them.

“Well… you heard him! Robbie told the Hell bound redskin not to talk again. And Robbies always been a man of his word ain’t that right boys? See now, what cha got there a stick for?”

“This is no ordinary _stick_ , you prick. This _stick_ is going to kill you.”

She waited patiently for the next round of laughter to end before slashing her wand in the air and a reducto sent them backwards to laying in the dirt.

Their pleas and screams filled the once peaceful night air as they scrambled to their feet and backed away.

“A-a witch! Yer a demon! Witch!”

Easing herself into a familiar battle stance she lifted a brow. “You’ve been paying attention. Well done. And here I thought you were stupid.”

“You wouldn’t really kill us would you? We’re real sorry about yer injun fella!”

Another slash through the air and the four men were hanging upside down in the air the rancid smell of urine was in the air, mixing with the scent of blood.

“I said not to call him that. His name is Lootah. And bit of background information about me… I have ended someone’s life before… someone I cared for dearly and I’m not against killing you for what you have done to him.”

At her words and the deadly look in her eyes they began to beg again in earnest.

She raised her wand again and willed the spell to come forth. But no matter how much she knew these men deserved to die she couldn’t cast the darkest of magic to end their lives. With a frustrated growl she released the levicopse and the four men fell to the ground with heavy grunts.

“Run. Run before I change my mind and burn you with a fire that never ends.” She hissed in angry frustration.

Without another look, the men ran quickly in the direction they came from and the witch looked down at the wounded man at her feet. Kneeling next to him she brushed his hair from his neck and checked his pulse.

He was still alive but she knew he needed help and fast. The kind of help that couldn’t be found in the nineteenth century. Magic could help but she had no time to brew the necessary potions. Cursing herself for not being prepared for such a situation, she knew she had but one desperate choice.

Closing her eyes she allowed her emotions to well inside of her. Her anger and despair, hurt and fear. Desperation to save the only friend she had left. All those that seemed to have the most power over her surged forth. Memories of everyone whom she had ever had to say goodbye to, consumed her and the old familiar crack appeared.

Once the opening was wide enough she levitated the quickly fading Lootah back to the present. Unsure of where they were but relieved to be in a large city alley, sure to have a hospital nearby. Leaving Lootah behind, she ran into the nearest business still open in the middle of the night. A laundry mat.

“A man’s been shot! You must call an ambulance right away. See that alley across the street? He’s in there!”

The urgency in her voice had the elderly employee fumbling for the phone and rapidly dialing the emergency services. Her instinct was to run back to Lootah and wait for him to be safely transported to a hospital but after several steps her guilt stopped her.

He wouldn’t be near dead if it weren’t for her. Though it pained her she stepped back into the shadows and watched as her friend of the past months was moved into the back of an ambulance and rushed away.

Whispering to the Sisters to watch over him the witch with the snow white hair and glowing amber eyes vowed to never make that mistake again. Involving others in her life only ever brought them pain. She began the slow journey back to the east where her _Sea Witch_ awaited to whisk her away from another life she had ruined.

 

* * *

The warning from Lucius Malfoy stayed with Hermione, playing repeatedly in her mind until she felt like she would go mad. She was torn, for she knew she had feelings for Draco. The thought of him in that shack, disappearing through the floor, had her heart pumping with fear every time she thought of it. Not to be considered an afterthought, she couldn’t count the number of times she had thought about the kiss they shared.

But Hermione had worked hard for her chance with Madam Bagshot, had been her sole dream for years now. The chance to work with the best historian the wizarding world had to offer, to investigate lost history and give it a voice… the decision Hermione had been faced with had not been an easy one.

There was no pleasure in her choice of abiding by Lucius Malfoy’s demand, in fact it left a terrible taste in her mouth to agree. Doing so left her feeling shackled and guilty. But she was honest with herself. She truly had had no idea what she and Draco were, if they were even anything other than a light flirtatious distraction from the mundane happenings of school.

A way to ease the stress of rigorous studying and obnoxious friends.

That didn’t stop Hermione from feeling guilty the first time Draco tried to talk to her after his release from the Hospital Wing. It was just days before the summer release and she had been enjoying a lively tale from Stephen about his father and best friends from their time at school. The courtyard was busy with students making summer plans and sharing their favorite memories of the past year.

Draco had walked up to the pair sitting on the bench, his hands in slack pockets, sleeves rolled to his elbows looking perfectly tempting. Stephens’s voice had faded and Hermione swallowed when her eyes met Draco’s in silence.

He’d held his once broken leg out. “Cast is gone. Nicely healed up according to Pomphrey.”

Hermione had kept her silence and instead watched as Stephen stood and clapped his cousin on the shoulder.

“Fantastic! Father will want to hear every detail about it I tell you. Can’t say I envy you having to deal with Cousin Cis though. She’s sure to have laid an egg over this.”

Hermione stood abruptly during Stephen’s excited comments and quickly pushed herself away from the two and she hadn’t seen Draco since until the end of summer.

The first letter she had received from Draco came a week after summer began. Her first instinct was to throw the temptation into the trash or better yet incinerate it but since she was not yet seventeen and still had the trace and it didn’t sit well with her to just throw it away, she shoved it into a box in her closet and tried to forget about it.

The next day there was another to hide in the closet and before she knew it summer was over and she had a pile of unread letters in her closet and a heart full of ragged guilt. She was tortured by her decision every day, and every day the temptation to toss Lucius Malfoy’s threat out the window grew stronger.

A letter did arrive the week she was to go shopping in Diagon Ally with Harry, only this one was from Stephen asking to meet for he had something urgent to discuss.

The scores of her OWLS had come in after she sent her reply to Stephen, agreeing to meet after the shopping was done, and with shaking hands she slowly opened the envelope. To her relief she found all scores were outstanding and had cried out for joy. Her parents had questioned why she would be so nervous, as it was a given that Hermione would have done perfectly fine. Hermione had clammed up and given a false excuse about the questions been extra tricky.

She never learned what Stephen had to tell her for it was all forgotten the moment she stepped from the Weasley twin’s exciting new joke shop with Harry at her side to see Draco Malfoy walking towards them with Astoria Greengrass holding tightly onto his arm, looking up at him with a lady-like laughter echoing around them.

Coldness spread through Hermione’s body only to be followed by the boiling heat of jealousy. Where she had been hesitant before about her choice, wondering if she had made the right one, she was certain now. After telling Harry that she had everything she needed and Stephen forgotten about, Hermione had gone back home to pack in the only way frustrated teenagers could pack.

“Of course I made the right choice. I’m only sixteen! I couldn’t possibly throw my dreams away for something that probably wasn’t even there on his side anyways. Best this is over before it even began.” This had been her packing mantra until one final letter from an ashen haired wizard arrived the night before she was to leave for Harry’s.

The jealousy and doubt all came flooding back and she had slowly pulled each letter out of her closet and spread them around her. Every bit of her wanted to read them. But opening even one would be laying herself out to be hurt. And as brave as Hermione liked to think of herself, the very Slytherin like quality of self-preservation was strong in her.

The sun had continued to rise and along with it the noises of her parents as they began their day. When at last her mother called her down for her final breakfast of summer break with them she sighed and neatly put each letter back in the closet, leaving them behind in the darkness.

 

* * *

Hands were clenched and a small muscle in his jaw gave a twitch. There she was seated in the corner of the prefect compartment, chatting with Weasley as if he didn’t exist. As if she hadn’t spent all summer thinking about him the way he had about her. As if she hadn’t ignored every bloody letter sent her way. He hand been worried that his first letter would do this… ruin everything.

‘No, she sat there discussing whatever it is Gryffindor’s manage to talk about while I sit here in agony. After the most miserable summer imaginable, all I get is the cold shoulder.’

‘Wait where is she going? Now is the time to corner her and demand some acknowledgment and answers…’

Draco stood and straightened his jacket before following Hermione out of the prefect compartment. She walked quickly, her shoulders back as she dodged students. He was supposed to go in the opposite direction for his patrol but this was no time to worry about his duties.

A younger student stopped Hermione to ask her a question and as she pointed in the direction he was coming from she caught sight of him. Draco frowned as she froze and her eyes widened in something akin to horror. The student rushed past him and Hermione turned and practically ran until he lost sight of her.

If he had been uncertain before, he now knew without a doubt that this had to do with what he had written in those letters.

“Should I even bother with asking what has you in such a state?”

Draco focused his gaze to see Theo walking toward him and attempted to smooth the fierce frown he realized must have given away his mood.

Before he could give voice to any frustrations Theo held up a hand and close his eyes in feigned patience.

“No don’t. I passed Grainger looking positively desperate as she shoved herself into a compartment packed full of Gryffindors’.”

Draco opened his mouth to defend himself but was cut off as a group of witches pushed their way around the two wizards, both earning admiring looks and Draco tried to hold his rising temper in check.

Once the quiet laughter and whispers faded away Theo nodded toward a close by compartment.

“Since Granger is shirking her round on the train, you might as well do the same. I have some interesting news from my mother.”

Following his… well Draco supposed Theo was one of the few people he could call friend, or close to one, into the compartment. Inside Blaise laid across one of the seats with head resting on the lap of Daphne, Pansy yelling at Goyle to shove over, and Crabbe laughing in that hog like snort of his.

Draco looked over at Theo and groaned. “Nott, I do _not_ care about your mother’s gossip.”

Theo gave an answering sneer and shoved Draco into the compartment. “Ladies, gentleman, I insist that you find another compartment.”

As Blaise sat up in curiosity, Pansy whipped her angry gaze to them. “If you think for one small moment Nott that you have any sway-“

Theo pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Please do not be so tiresome Parkinson. Everyone here knows that you will leave. I have business to discuss with Malfoy. Besides Pucey said something about asking some Hufflepuff to the first Hogsm-“

He was interrupted as Pansy shoved both wizards to the side and stormed out of the compartment. Draco wasn’t certain what just happened but he caught the name Leanne something, and an interesting hex. Shaking his head in disgust he waited as Crabbe and Goyle moved past them making half-witted jokes about Pansy.

Daphne was next, her glare full of suspicion and coldness. Only Blaise remained seated and Theo looked at him with an expectant brow raised.

“Aww even me? Your best mate?” Zabini whined.

Theo scoffed and crossed his arms. “We are pureblood. We do not have _mates_. We have connections.”

There was a pang of sadness at just how true Theodore’s words were. His words however seemed to have the desired effect and Blaise reluctantly and with a childish demeanor, slunk out of the compartment.

Sliding the door shut at last, Draco felt his head begin to ache. “Nice line on Parkinson by the way. Something tells me this is going to be a long year.” Silence fell after Theo inclined his head in acknowledgment and the two sat opposite each other. His head began to pound more when his vision flashed back to Hermione whispering to Weasley.

Jealousy blurred the edges of his memory and Draco wished he had the sort of relationship with Theo that allowed him to vent his frustration. Looking over at the other wizard he contemplated giving it a go. “Ever do something that you were so certain was the right thing, only to find out afterward that perhaps it wasn’t the right thing to do after all?”

Theo looked him in the eye. “No. One of the many lessons we should know by now is to calculate every variable and every possible outcome before making a decision.”

“I wasn’t talking about making a business decision.” Draco muttered and looked out the window.

“Neither was I Malfoy. And you should hold out making any more such _passionate_ decisions once you hear what Mother let slip after a rather impressive amount of _Amarone_.”

Rolling his eyes Draco leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “Enough about your mother and her inhabitation of wine. I. Do. Not. Care. Though I do appreciate the… almost peaceful compartment.”

He missed seeing Theo lean forward and the gleam in his dark brown eyes, otherwise he would have seen the smack to the side of his head coming.

Growling out a yelp and rubbing his already aching head he glared at Theo hotly.

“Wake up Malfoy. This is a bit of gossip you would pay your entire inheritance for.”

 

* * *

Suffocating. That’s what she was doing. Certain that it had only been because of the close proximity to Draco, despite striving to be on the opposite side of the train from him. Hiding in the crowded compartment full rowdy housemates, and praying to Merlin to hurry and get her to the castle so she can at last breath.

As much as she tried, Hermione had not been oblivious to Draco’s staring during the meeting, and sheer panic when she was suddenly faced with the possibility of having to speak to him. The moment her gaze had clashed with his, her resolve had faltered. And the ability to breath was becoming difficult.

Now, hours, days, weeks, months… she was no longer certain just how long it had been since the Express had reached the platform, she still felt suffocated. Confined and restless. The only thing that kept her grounded was her studies and the social lives of her closest friends.

More than ever she threw herself into keeping Ron and Harry on track, allowed Ginny to convince her that Quidditch was going to be worth watching this year. And dodging questions from the more curious of her friends about Draco. It seemed as if the gossip from the year before had yet to be forgotten much to her dismay.

Currently she had managed to push her own problems to the side and was now brainstorming with Ron on ways to gain the attention of one of those gossips as it were.

“Ron. Honestly. Are you positive?” Hermione asked as she led the way toward their house table in the Great Hall.

“For the hundredth time Mione… Yes!” Ron replied with earnest and began to pile various breakfast foods onto his platter.

Hermione leaned forward with a serious tilt of her chin. “But Ron… _her_? _”_

“I know you haven’t really got on well with her-“ Ron ignored the scoff that Hermione let out and buttered a scone before handing it to her. “And I know that she can be difficult at times- your welcome by the way-“ He muttered, ignoring yet another scoff. “Mione she’s… she’s incredible! I mean did you see her cheering at the tryouts?”

Hermione stared at Ron as if he had grown another head. “That cannot be your only basis for thinking that she’s _incredible_ Ron.” Hermione lowered her voice and narrowed her eyes. “Have you even spoken more than five words to her since we came back to school?”

Ron blushed and shrugged. “That’s where I need you. C’mon Mione! Hear me out.”

She couldn’t help the small smile at her friend’s pleas. “Fine. But you have less than three minutes before I leave for Potions. And you completely ignored what I said about needing more than ‘she cheered at a game’ to build a relationship-”

Ron beamed at her. “Yea, yea, yea. Brilliant Mione.”

Hermione lost slight track of what Ron wished her to do, something about befriending Lavender Brown, as against her own wishes her gaze met that of Draco’s glare. It took every bit of willpower to keep her on expression blank and turn away.

“Time’s up Ron. I’ll do my best but if she makes one condescending remark about my hair- oof!” She was cut off by the energetic hug Ron threw around her.

“The best Mione you really are! Once you give her a chance…”

“Yes, yes, I’ll be even more in love with her than you are, now come on. I think Harry slept in. And unlike you and our dear Harry, I have a complex about tardiness.”

* * *

“Harry do remember, the essay is about how wand core’s-“

“Yep, got it Hermione-“

“And don’t forget-“

“Already taken care of-“

“Please just-“

“I’ll be careful. Anything else?”

Hermione stood at the edge of the Quidditch pitch, her hands rested on her hips, and she watched as Harry walked backwards as they talked. His impatience was clear and Hermione knew she couldn’t stall him any longer and she waved him an exasperated goodbye.

Without another word Harry turned on his heel and jogged to join his teammates as they gathered to practice. He was a bit nervous as he was now the captain of the team, much to his father’s happiness. It had been all Mr. Potter had been able to talk about the night she spent over at their house.

Fighting off another wave of guilt, Hermione suddenly felt very alone. She had been surrounding herself with her friends, striving to never be apart from them during these weeks since their return to school and for entirely selfish reasons.

If she was with them then perhaps Draco would be dissuaded from wishing to confront her about the letters she ignored. And it seemed to be working. Draco had kept their interaction’s to glare’s from across whatever space they both happened to be occupying at the same time.

There was no doubt that he was angry at her. Justifiably too.

Hermione shoved her hands into the pockets of her jeans and sighed as the Gryffindor team at last mounted their brooms and with stomach churning speed, launched into the brisk early fall air. Turning on her heel Hermione was stopped short by the very reason for all the turmoil in her life just then.

Keeping her surprise and panic was surprisingly easy, so long as she kept on reminding herself about her waiting correspondence with one Ms. Bagshot. It was impossible not to notice how frustratingly perfect he looked however. Ashen hair lightly tousled by the wind, his long shirt sleeves rolled to a perfectly casual point on his forearms, a particular weakness of hers she quickly realized.

Trying to ignore the anger in his eyes, Hermione gave a slight nod and strode past with her head held high, her refusal to look back was solid. At first she couldn’t pick any sound of him following and she allowed relief to edge into her breathing.

However it was short her relief lived, for when she reached the empty courtyard she felt a firm grasp on her arm pull her into one of the watchtowers at the gate. There was barely time to acknowledge that she had been pulled against her wishes before she found herself with her back against the ancient stone wall, a very angry wizard blocking her escape with a hand on either side of her, and realizing that her wand was being used as a book mark… back in her dormitory.

Taking her anger toward herself for being so foolish she fueled it, letting it rise. But Draco beat her in getting the words out.

“Have a pleasant summer Granger?” He bit out through clenched teeth. Then before she could answer, retort, or even think of what she wanted to respond with, he leaned down and crushed her lips with his own.

Against her own wishes her first instinct was to allow it, her eyes closed, and her hands lifted to rest on each of his arms. She wanted to melt into the feeling having him kiss her brought. She could see it there like the light at the end of a long, confusing, and rather frustrating tunnel. An end to all the frustration, the guilt, and the beginning to everything else.

It only took her the smallest moment of time to react, for her to remember that this wasn’t real. And that’s when the real emotion filtered in.

Fury. Pure fury.

Brown eyes snapped open and with a shove she freed herself from his dominating stance. With motions beyond her control she pulled her fist back and aimed for his perfect Malfoy nose.

Only when he stumbled back, his eyes wide with shock and his hands covering his bloodied nose did Hermione find words. Tamping back her satisfaction she tried to control her breathing and made a show of wiping her mouth with her sleeve.

“You dare? I will not be touched without permission.” She growled out.

Draco stood back to his full height, his nose forgotten. “So Weasel has permission? Who else?”

The sneer he gave her made her go cold but she saw an opportunity to end this once and for all. To send Draco the message that apparently his father had failed to do.

“I don’t care for what you’re implicating with your disgusting accusations but yet there is someone else so you would do well to stay away from me.”

There was a loudness to the silence to follow her confession. Not even their breathing could overcome the sound of her heartbeat in her head. The entire time, her unflinching gaze locked on his pale angry eyes as he processed what she revealed.

“And all we went through-“ He began quietly but Hermione knew she couldn’t let him continue if she were to be successful in what she had started.

“I have analyzed the past year and concluded that it was… nice to be distracted from the stress of preparing for OWLS, but we just don’t make sense Malfoy.”

She looked away when he gave a disbelieving laugh and shook his head.

“I’m going to leave now, and I’m once I do, things will go back to the way they were. Back to when I was nothing more than the lowest of this earth to you. And that is how it will stay.” Her demands voiced, she turned for the door.

“Then don’t- Hermione… don’t leave this tower…” He said quietly.

Hermione felt her heart tear in two. He didn’t know- could never know just what his words did to her, but as she flung open that tower door and escaped into the waning afternoon, he nearly destroyed everything she had been striving for.

 

 

 

 


	46. Necessary Evils of a Stubborn Witch

Silence. Draco found one of the more welcome perks to spending copious amounts of free time in the Slytherin common room was how quiet it often was. The only sounds to be heard in the spacious room on the late evening of a Sunday in November was the occasional rustle of paper or mumbled conversation between students.

Draco nearly felt pity for the other houses save Ravenclaw for he was certain that they were just as loud and obnoxious as they were in the Great Hall. He had been invited into the other common rooms more than once by a few of those of the opposite gender, but Draco always rejected the idea. He had neither wanted their obvious attentions nor wished to subject himself to the blaring sound of the other students. With their various board games or loud bantering.

No, indeed there was nothing like the peace he found with silence.

Far from the various lounge chairs and cushions, yet near enough to the fireplace to soak in the warmth, was the perfect alcove with a writing table and comfortable chair. It hadn’t taken long for the young Malfoy heir to establish the alcove as _his_ , even as a first year. By the tender age of eleven, Draco had already perfected the powerful look of haughty commandment his father used, and the thinly disguised compliments his mother used to ensure her place on every high bred committee there could possibly be.

There had been a time where his every evening at Hogwarts was spent in this very spot drafting correspondence, homework, reading or simply contemplating something that had caught his attention.  Recent events had brought to his attention that he had been spending more time in the library than his common room alcove and the reason why had been painfully plain.

He had made a tangled mess of everything, and now found himself once again in more peaceful territory, far from dusty books, light conversing, and beautifully wild hair. For after the ill-fated attempt to make the stubborn, quick minded, infuriating, and strictly off limits witch, see reason and have a true conversation for once, he had barricaded himself to his alcove.

If it were not for his extra duties, Draco was certain he would never leave. Already Blaise had delivered more than one meal to his side. He would never admit that he was sulking and always had the proof of some bit of work his father had sent through the post to satisfy those more prone to gossip and brave enough to mention his solitude.

A deep sigh escaped as he sunk deeper in thought about where everything had gone wrong, he had thought Hermione had been ready to admit that they had had a real moment way back in fifth year. He was confused and hurt and bordered on mortified each time he saw her with his cousin. The sear jealousy and the suffocating feeling of being trapped in a destiny not of his choosing seemed to consume him when the two were together.

He’d had his suspicions that she had been bluffing, and the thought almost hurt more that if so, she would rather lie than admit she cares for him. But often she and he were together, conversing at lunch or walking together. Never alone however as Potter and Weasley were usually nearby but that part never really centered in his mind. All he could see was her and him together and it was torture. Draco groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Have you not finished yet Draco? There is a certain firebolt we need to break in.” Blaise said with a grin and an excited look in his eye.

“He finished long ago and has been sitting there… contemplating. “ Theo had joined his friends’ side and they stood waiting for Draco’s response. Only Theo had noticed the way Draco was startled from deep thought and gave a mental sigh of exasperation.

During their short conversation Draco had run a palm over his face and closed his eyes, just noticing the ache in his temples and the dryness of his mouth. With a sigh he held one hand out toward Blaise.

Blaise stared at the hand in brief confusion. After a shrug he outstretched his own and gave Draco’s hand a quick shake.

“Are you mad? A drink!”  Draco snapped and snatched his hand away with a glare.

“Am I your bloody butler?”

“I know you always have the flask you _acquired_ from your uncle. You went on about it enough when you stole it. Something about always there when the damsels need encouragement, or some other pathetic reason. Now I need a drink or should I explain to our head of house why you have detention?” Draco growled.

Blaise rolled his eyes but reached into the back pocket of his pants and slipped Draco the small silver flask. “No need to be snippy and you know that I would never take advantage of the gentle and fair witches of Hogwarts.” His tone indignant and he attempted a wounded expression when both of his dear friends scoffed.

After a quick and welcomed drink Draco held the borrowed flask back and rested his head on the high back of his chair.

“Alright there?” Theo asked, his voice touched with concern. He was used to a brooding Draco, even more than accustomed to an angry Draco, but he was not used to seeing a combination of both mixed with defeat.

“I made my life hell.” Draco mumbled.

After a short glance at Daphne whom was seated near the fireplace next to Pansy as they shared a catalog, Theo cleared his throat. “Are you certain you want to have this discussion here? Don’t get me wrong because it’s a very long overdue discussion, as I am rather bored of your current mood swings. “

Draco waved a hand limply and sighed for what seemed like the hundredth time in the short span his friends had joined his side.

“What does it matter? So Daphne runs off to the owlery to let my father know just how miserable I am and he then punishes me with more business contracts to pick apart.” His voice began to rise as he gestured to the thick envelope sealed with the Malfoy insignia. “How about I write the announcement that a wool factory is to be closed and therefore the one hundred and seventy three witches and wizards employed there are now out of work? Nothing will change, it never does. Astoria will continue to stare at me with those desperate eyes, I will still have top grades to maintain and the hatred and disgust of the one person I would truly rather be having this conversation with instead.” Draco said hotly but all the same he stood and began to stride toward the door of the dungeons.

Theo followed close to his side with Blaise just a step behind. “See Blaise, this is the epitome of teenage angst. Would you rather your father move the wonderful and most happy date to the day after Astoria graduates? If you continue to carry on like this then yes Daphne _will_ write to your father about how miserable you are and he would then convince your mother that the reason being is you need to be settled into the business as soon as possible, and the best way to have you settled in business is to have you comfortably married to a _suitable_ witch and that will be that. All hope you had of annulling the contract with the Greengrass lot will be gone.” 

Once they had left the dungeon  Draco turned to both his friends and gestured sarcastically. “Is this alright then Theo? Will my reputation remain intact if I lament about my woes in the corridor?”

“I’m listening.” Theo said with a slight miff of contempt when Blaise muttered about the perfect opportunity for flying wasted.

“I want you to find out if she is truly in a relationship with my cousin.” Draco demanded.

“I’m not doing that. Malfoy, I for the most part enjoy your company, and you will be a useful ally as we come of age but we are not in the sort of relationship where I am your lackey. I’m not going to invade her or his privacy and frankly I haven’t the time for such childish activities Malfoy. Get one of the dimwitted ones to do. Zabini looks bored at the moment.” Theo felt satisfaction at the dumbfounded expression on Draco’s face, and held a hand up demanding silence from the halfhearted protestations from Blaise.

“I didn’t follow you out here to listen to your woes, I truly didn’t. I’m here to shake some sense into that overly romantic mind of yours that you have bigger problems other than who Granger fancies herself with at the moment. Besides the numerous responsibilities that have piled onto yourself such as Quidditch, prefect, tutoring, CEO in training, semester exams, what else did I forget, oh yes the little contract you promised you would help me break.”

“Wait the marriage contract? Why do _you_ want it broken?” Blaise asked, looking from one wizard to the other.

“That isn’t important-“ Theo began but was cut off by the sound of loud laughter approaching.

_“Did you see the way she looked at me? Gents it was classic!”_

Draco recognized the voice to be that of Roderick Lestrange, yet another cousin of his in the seventh year and the answering laughter to be that of Roderick’s’ friends Gibson and Enoch Avery, twins. Prime examples of all that was wrong with the Slytherin house.

“If you’re implying-“ Draco attempted to speak over the loud conversation approaching them.

_“She wants it so bad, I can tell. Say Roddy, when you get done with her I want a go. You’ll have her all trained up and-“_

Draco had heard enough and judging by the way Theo and Blaise had their jaws clenched and their eyes narrowed, they had had just as much as him.

“Lestrange by the mercy of Merlin cease! All of Hogwarts can hear you and none of them believes that any witch would give you the time of day. Please carry on elsewhere.” Draco snapped out the insult.

The laughter had stopped and a moment later the trio strode into view with angry faces. Roderick has his parent’s dark hair but inherited the grey eyes of the Blacks. His skin seemed thin and papery, eyes too large for his face and hair kept short looked to be thinning prematurely. The Avery twins were identical with matching sandy blonde hair and blue eyes.

For a long stretch of time the three older Slytherins’ glared at the three younger before Roderick gave a rolling laugh to which after a moment the two Avery’s joined in. When Roderick’s laughter died out he dropped a hand on Draco’s shoulder and gave it a light squeeze.

Blatantly ignoring the disgusted look Draco gave the hand as he shrugged it off immediately Roderick gave a charming smile.  “I like you cousin. Not really but father says I must. He likes your money. Well not _your_ money but your parents. And after mother left when I was just a new little squalling babe, leaving me to be raised motherless, well it’s the least they could do but to take care of their own.”

Draco gave a grand show of nodding in agreement. “Ah yes the money your father squanders on opiates and muggle whores. Little wonder why the fabled Aunt Bella went mad and disappeared.”

He had to give it to his cousin. The older wizard could bottle the obvious anger he had and plaster a pleasant smile on top of a clenched jaw. “You really mustn’t worry your pretty blonde head about it. Word around the family table is that you have more important matters. Such as keeping your fingers out of the mud.” Certain he had won this round Roderick moved past Draco and with a flippant shrug threw one last comment, blue eyes glassed over. “Don’t concern yourself if the witches’ are giving me their attention. I take it.” And the sound of the twins’ laughter echoing until the common room door brought silence back to the corridor.

“Who- what do you suppose he meant?” Blaise asked quietly.

Draco frowned at the worn stone floor, a new knot of dread sinking in his stomach.

* * *

 

“Listen to this… dad wrote that he has a meeting with Gringotts next week. Something about a delivery of… gold to be deposited into the family vault.” Harry gave the short version of the letter in his hands.

Seated across from Harry, Hermione looked up from her own letter from Madam Bagshot while Ron who was stretched out on the rug used his wand to levitate graded sheets of school work, now properly fashioned into paper planes, and send them into the fire, each disappearing in a puff of smoke.

“Really Ron? I know your mother would rather see your grades.” Hermione said with a huff.

“That’s the point Mione’. I’d rather her not see these particular grades.”

Harry dropped his hand holding the letter and stared at his friends. “Honestly? I tell you that someone anonymously sent my father a chest of gold and you both ignore me? Both more concerned with Ron’s pathetic attempt at hiding his poor grades?”

“What’s the big deal? Your family is loaded. Don’t people give you chests of gold all the time?” Ron said without pausing his diligent cause.

“No… not all the time. And we aren’t _that_ well off- we aren’t! Besides that’s the least interesting part. He writes that the gold appears to be from some really old civilization.”

This caught Hermione’s attention even if it didn’t capture Ron’s. “What does he mean?” She asked as she moved to Harry’s side of the table to look at the letter over his shoulder.

 _“The coins are being studied right now to find where they originate from._ Oh what I wouldn’t give to get a look at this myself! Where do you suppose it came from Harry? _”_ She asked with more excitement in her voice than neither Harry nor Ron had heard in a long time.

“I couldn’t even begin to guess. Something tells me that this wasn’t just a normal payment for another case successfully done by dad. Or mum either.”

“Right about that. Since she works in my dad’s department he better have gotten a cut too.” Ron muttered and paused his grade burning to glance in the direction of Lavender Brown’s laughter.

Harry rolled his eyes and folded his letter to put away. “Would you just talk to her already? She already thinks you’re fantastic from your kingly Quidditch skills. Plus Hermione talked you up a bit to her according to Ginny. Ask her to Hogsmead next weekend.”

Hermione watched Ron’s ears turn red and he swung his eyes back to the fire. “I will! I just have to find the right moment…”

With a shake of her head she stood and stretched. “Well that moment’s not now. We have rounds starting. Come along Ronald.” She poked him in the thigh with the toe of her shoe when he took too long to join her.

“Alright, alright, let’s go hunt down ne’er do wells. Later Harry. Oh and you know the rules. Stay away from my sister unless I’m in the room. And remember I have spies everywhere.” Ron said over his shoulder with a perfectly serious tone.

Hermione hid a smile at the stricken expression on Harry and hurried after Ron and they left the Gryffindor tower. “You should go easy on him Ron.”

“Why should I go easy on him? My best friend and my little baby sister? Mione’ it’s disgusting!”

Hermione paused to check an alcove for late night wanderers before picking up her defense of Harry and Ginny’s relationship. “You only think it’s disgusting because you know the awful thoughts boys your age can have. I know you would trust Harry with your life Ron! And she’s hardly little anymore.”

“I trust Harry to catch the snitch, I trust Harry to save me a large piece of cake, and I trust Harry to do all sorts of things, _except_ ensure my sister is happy.”

“Be sensible Ron! You don’t get to choose what will make her happy. She is intelligent and knows her own mind.”

“Why do you always take his side Mione’? And did you already have this conversation with Ginny because-“

“Hush Ron… I hear someone.”

“If you think I’m going to let this go that easy then-“

Hermione cut him a glare that spoke louder than words and effectively brought him to silence. That was when they both heard the sound again.

“Was that… crying?” Ron whispered with wide eyes.

With a short nod Hermione began to follow the sound toward what was supposed to be an empty classroom. Before either could reach out a wand to turn the knob, it turned from the other side and the door was pushed open. Both prefects jumped back slightly as a bundle of dark robes and long black hair stumbled from the dark room and fell against Hermione’s shoulder.

With a startled gasp Hermione caught the girls’ shoulders and held her up and caught a brief glance at her pale, tear streaked face and glassy grey eyes before she wrenched herself free and fled down the hallway leaving a stumbling Hermione.

“Bloody hell… who do you suppose that was?” Ron muttered in curiosity and he steadied Hermione with a hand on her arm.

“Language Ronald. I didn’t recognize her. Did you?”

“Didn’t get a look at her. Too much hair and all that. Suppose the stress of homework got to her?”

Hermione shook her head. “Something was horribly wrong. Let’s check the classroom.” After casting a lumos she led the way into the empty room to find nothing out of place. “I don’t understand… Ron she was shaking when I held her and her eyes looked as if her world had been ripped apart… I would have thought she was attacked. But there’s nothing here to indicate such a thing…”

Ron gave a light tug on her sleeve. “C’mon. We can tell McGonagall about it in the morn and keep an eye on this hallway. Let’s get back before Harry gets any bright ideas.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and tried to stop picturing the poor girls’ tormented face and she joined Ron on the trek back to their house tower.

* * *

 

“Do you think it would be easier for me to tell mum that I’m disowning Ron or should I just do it and never tell her?” Ginny asked Hermione the next morning during breakfast.

Hermione didn’t have to guess where Ginny’s question came from. One glance across Ginny found a grumpy looking Ron and next to him sat a glum looking Harry. “Just do it Ginny. You have countless other brothers to protect your virtue.”

“Stop encouraging them Hermione!” Ron snapped and stabbed a poached egg with his fork.

“Ron if you keep obsessing over your sister and best friend you’re going to miss your chance with Lavender!” Hermione leaned across Ginny to hiss at the other stubborn red head.

“Seems the Gryffindor tower woke on the wrong side of the castle this morning!”

The four seated students glanced up to find Stephen watching them with amusement.

After various mumbles of good mornings and welcomes Stephen invited himself to sit across the table and helped himself to their platters of food.

“Oi Black! Get your own!” Ron cried out in protest as he saw his precious breakfast being snatched away.

“Relax Ron, there’s plenty for everyone, there always is. And besides… he’s right you know. Lavender won’t wait forever, and she’s interested in you _now_ for some unknown reason!” Hermione encouraged, and smiled at the wink Stephen sent her way.

Stephen and Harry began to throw pick-up lines for Ron to use on Lavender but Hermione was no longer paying them any attention. As always, she knew the moment when Draco entered the Great Hall for the hair on the back of her neck would stand on end and there was the involuntary skip in her heartbeat.

Hermione forced her eyes to stay focused on Stephen and she searched for a topic to switch to since she had lost them somewhere between clever pick up stories to Ginny punching Ron’s shoulder.

“Stephen did you have rounds last night?” She interrupted the banter and gaining the attention of her friends. Ron immediately sat up straight and nodded.

Stephen shook his head and sipped a cup of tea. “No, the fifth years had it last night. Why do you ask?”

Ron leaned forward to speak in a hushed tone. “Mione’ and I stumbled across a witch crying in one of the unused classrooms.”

“I was hoping you had been patrolling and might have seen her.” Hermione continued for Ron.

“Did you know who it was? I haven’t heard of anyone arriving late and covered in tears so I doubt she was from Hufflepuff. What did she look like?”

Hermione thought for a quick moment. “Long dark hair and it was full of tangles, I remember thinking it was rather disheveled. Her eyes were… I suppose a light blue? My height but it was hard to tell if she was older or younger than myself.”

Stephen frowned at the table as Hermione finished her brief description. “I’ll be sure to keep a look out for anyone fitting that.”

“Thank you Stephen. I’d really like to make sure she was okay. Haven’t been able to forget how hopeless she looked.”

After a moment of rare silence Ginny and Harry began to speak about plans to take a walk after Quidditch practice much to Ron’s dismay and Stephens amusement, Hermione’s thoughts turned to what she was about to do.

Not a day, hour, moment went by that she didn’t think about the lie she had told Draco and the disbelief and pain flashing across his face. She could freely admit to herself that it was foolish and impulsive and if she didn’t do something, and do it soon, the elder Malfoy would be pulling the funding promised to Madam Bagshot.

The letter she had received the night before from the madam had been full of praise for Draco’s father and the excitement in the elderly witches’ letter was apparent. She had countless leads she wanted to explore and was already making preparations for when Hermione graduated.

If she weren’t on the arm of another wizard soon, Draco would call out her bluff and she wouldn’t be able to say no anymore. That’s why she had to go through with what she knew she would hate herself for.

After taking a deep breath Hermione plucked up her courage and buried her pride.

“Stephen, will you walk with me to potions?” she asked with a strong voice, strong than she was presently feeling. She chanced a quick glance at the three next to her. Ginny stared at her with an expression that said they would be discussing this turn of events, Harry and Ron looked equally shocked. “Alone.”

Stephen merely shrugged and snatched an apple from a bowl and took a bite.

“Sure thing. Ready to go now? I actually wanted to pick your brain about last week’s test.”

Instead of answering she swung her bag onto her shoulder as she stood, when they met at the end of the table Stephen snagged her bag and moved it onto his own shoulder, carrying his own bag on the opposite shoulder.

Hermione tried not to feel too pleased that the gesture was perfectly timed, almost as if Stephen knew what she was doing. And if the feeling of ice cold eyes on her back were any indication it was working. 

* * *

 

“You finally took my advice didn’t you?” Ginny said with a smug voice as she joined Hermione in the otherwise empty sixth year girls dorm and stretched out across Padme and Hermione set aside the reply to Madam Bagshot she had been drafting.

“I suppose I did in a way.” Hermione attempted to be vague.

“Spill it now or you’ll find out what George and Fred sent me the other day.”

Hermione sighed and turned in her chair to face the fierce little Weasley.

“I told you about that night I said some impulsive things to Draco correct? Well I decided that I had better make good on that before he realizes that I was less than truthful and attempts to tell me how he feels and I can’t go through with it Ginny! His father has already begun to fund Madam Bagshot’s works and she’s incredibly excited and already made plans for her, for the both of us! And-“

“Hermione you love him! What does it matter if she loses the money because you fell in love with his son! You cannot allow him to bully you like this.”

Hermione stared at Ginny in shock. “I thought you wanted me to get over him…”

“Well that was until I saw how miserable you are when you two are in a snit. I say throw everything to the wind and go be with him.”

“I can’t do that Ginny-“

“Why not?”

Hermione fought for patience. “Because this is my future we are talking about Ginny! I can’t throw away my dreams and hard work for a boy that treated me with less than kindness for the first five years that I knew him. I’m not entirely certain that what I feel for him is love. Oh sure I have the fast heartbeat and sweaty palms but you know what else those are signs of? Lust. I don’t want lust, I don’t want love, I want to study and graduate and explore the world, uncovering its secrets. _He_ was not in my plan! If I could go back… yes, I’m certain I would have never opened any part of my life to him.”

Ginny sat up with a satisfied grin. “Seems that is what you should have said to Malfoy the other night. So you asked Stephen to go steady with you as a way out?”

Hermione sighed and closed her eyes. “Another part I’m not particularly proud of…. Stephen doesn’t know that he and I are now in a relationship-“

Ginny gave a snort of laughter and flopped back onto her back. “Ah Hermione… your truly are a role model for my younger more impressionable mind.”

“Oh hush Ginny… it’s not particularly easy to tell a perfectly nice wizard that you want to pretend to date him so the perfectly only nice when he wants to be wizard will move on and you can go back to worrying about grades and keeping your friends from failing. Besides I can hardly stomach just how much of a cliché this situation has become. Necessary evils and all that.”

“Stephen isn’t stupid. He will pick up on what you’re doing… just remember that those two are cousins. It never does well for a witch to come between family.”

“You make me sound like Helen of Troy… you know if Menelaus and Paris were cousins, the point is I’m not coming between them! Stephen is obviously closer to Harry than Draco and I’m not in a relationship with either one, nor do I plan to be.”

* * *

 

Draco couldn’t believe his eyes. He had been minding how own business, taking the long way back to the castle from the owlery, trying to enjoy the crisp evening air when he stumbled across a sight that had him frozen in shock and anger.

Slipping from a dark hallway was a vaguely familiar witch and who should join her side other than his dear cousin Stephen Black, straightening his robe before tucking a lock of the witches’ hair behind her ear.

 “I’m going to bloody kill you Black!” Draco called and forgetting his wand in his robe he charged the shocked wizard.

Stephen had enough sense to push the startled witch on her way though she clearly wanted to stay and watch the scene unfold but she gave in and disappeared down the hallway as Draco fisted both hands at Stephens shoulders and pushed him against the stone wall.

Never one to be as hot headed as his father’s side of the family, Stephen didn’t resist and only held his hands up in surrender. “Hello there Draco. Mind telling me what has you in a mood?”

“I didn’t expect Sirius to teach you respect but we all held out hope that your mother would have.” Draco bit out as he studied his cousins’ face. There was confusion and surprise but no sign that he felt remorse.

“Respect? If you mean Milly there I assure you I had her consent, just as she had mine-“

“And what about Granger?” Draco tightened his fists. “Where’s your respect for her while you’re out here with- with _Milly_?”

“Hermione?” Stephen pulled himself free of Draco and tilted his head to the side. “What’s she have to do with this?”

A new wave of anger swept through Draco. “Can you not keep your conquests straight anymore Black?”

Realization spread across Stephens features followed by amusement. He shook his head and gave a quick laugh.

“That little minx. Cousin allow me to give you a lesson in difficult, too proud for their own good women. And then I’ll be more than happy to play the merry matchmaker. I can see it now…”

 


	47. The Longest Night

Finding appropriate topics of conversation were one of the few traits in which Hermione failed… miserably. She had learned quickly that most had no care of her own interest such as history and excellent reading choices, perhaps even a bit of exploring if the location was in good need of proper exploring. The closest anyone came were the Weasley twins and their explorative nature.

Exploring anything with a story to tell, Hermione could count as incredibly interesting but the difference with Fred and George was their affinity to do it to cause mayhem and she herself would rather stick to the boundaries and respect of ancient places she someday wished to explore.

Unfortunately reading and learning could be very isolating and allow for one to focus more on their own thoughts with facts and characters than actually voicing them with those of the flesh and blood sort. And as she stood out in the courtyard Hermione cursed herself for the blankness in her mind as she tried to find appropriate topics which one would discuss with one of the opposite sex. Particularly one whom was unaware that they were in a fictional relationship.

But there they were, Hermione and Stephen, both bundled in layers of warm clothing, a week away from Holiday break and Hermione looking for something to talk about.

With her arms crossed for warmth she stared at the toe of her boot as she pushed snow around with it and chewed on her lip. "Hmmmm." She had hummed absentmindedly.

As for Stephen it was taking every bit of his control not to break into laughter. Without a doubt in his mind, the witch and he had absolutely no connection and he silently rubbed his hands together at the thought of his plan.

"So… do you have any siblings?" Hermione looked up at last and asked, her voice slowly becoming more confident that she had at last found something to discuss.

Stephen almost rolled his eyes and silently wondered what the hell she and his cousin ever found to discuss enough to fall into this mess if this was her choice of topic. But he was going to play along despite how boring it was becoming.

"I have pretty widespread family. There's Mary my younger sister. A fourth year Slytherin. My dad was only mildly disappointed that neither of his offspring landed in Gryffindor but we always knew Mary was destined for Slytherin… despite my mother being muggleborn. Then there's my cousin…." He paused dramatically and he almost laughed right then at the way she froze. "Altaria. My Uncle Regulus's daughter. She's a second year Ravenclaw like her mother, Cora. Of course there's Roderick Lestrange. Roderick's mother disappeared when he was little but I think her supposed madness still rubbed off onto him. No need for me to mention Draco's side as you already knew we were cousins."

Hermione had to her knowledge succeeded in keeping her face impassive at the mention of Draco. When she had suggested the topic it had completely slipped her mind that he would come up.

"I never realized Roderick Lestrange was your kin… I don't know him personally, just by reputation. But never mind that, you must point your sister out to me! It would be lovely to meet her."

Stephen could tell that about this, she was genuine, one of the reasons she was one of his favorite people. He was just about to agree to introduce them when he caught the sight of Draco and several of his friends leaving the castle. Suddenly he wasn't nearly as bored as he was a moment ago and slung an arm around Hermione's shoulder and the momentum started them walking toward the castle.

He noticed the stares of nearly everyone in Draco's entourage, particularly Theodore Nott and Daphne Greengrass. At the same time he felt Hermione stiffen and she practically oozed with discomfort.

"How about I do one better than simply introducing you to Mary. I would like to formally invite you to my family's Holiday party. Every year someone different throws it and this is my father's year. Course he couldn't give a lick about it but mother I hear is beside herself and would enjoy the help."

Like the professional Slytherin that he was Draco didn't skip a beat and simply offered a small nod to his cousin which Stephen returned with an enthusiastic smile and used the hand holding Hermione's shoulder to wave as they passed.

As for Hermione, she was stunned, her eyes locked on Stephen as she thought about what he asked. By then the group of Slytherins had passed by. "I- I suppose my parents wouldn't mind. We usually stay in, just the three of us but it would be pleasant to see everyone. I suppose…"

"Fantastic. Now how about watching the concert with me tonight?"

"Err…" Hermione hesitated. Was this truly working? Was Stephen honestly beginning to believe that there was something between them? As the thoughts tumbled through her mind they entered the castle and were stopped by Stephen's sudden shout of his sister's name.

"Mary! Over here!"

Hermione stepped away from his side, grateful he had at last removed his arm from around her shoulders, and looked in the direction of his waving. There at the bottom of a staircase stood a young witch with a brilliant green scarf, and untamed black hair. Hermione felt a hint of familiarity as the Stephen's sister approached them, and figured it must be because she was a female version of Stephen.

"Mary I wanted you to meet a really good friend of mine. This is Hermione, Hermione meet Mary my baby sister."

"Please Stephen she's hardly a baby… quite a pleasure to meet you Mary." Hermione held out her hand and Mary stared at it for a long moment, almost to the point that Hermione was afraid that she would ignore it, but then Mary reached out her own and gave a soft shake.

Stephen frowned at his sister's behavior but before he could comment on it she gave Hermione a soft "likewise" and then hurried toward another staircase.

A long stretch of silence echoed in the empty entryway. An idea niggling Hermione and confusion in Stephen.

"Do you remember the day Ron and I asked you about if you had rounds the night before?" Hermione asked, turning to look at Stephen.

He gave a noncommittal grunt and shrug and Hermione continued.

"I bring it up because I think the girl that came out of that classroom was Mary."

Stephen continued to frown.

"How do you not get nervous about doing something like this?" Astoria asked Draco later that evening, moments before the Holiday concert was to begin.

The both of them were behind the drawn stage curtain, she was peeking between the folds as students and staff members searched for seats, while he was inspecting the piano one last time.

"I just don't. I know how everyone out there feels about me, not as if I'm playing for strangers."

"You can't possibly know what everyone feels."

Draco sighed and straightened from his crouched position. "Astoria… don't be tiresome and naive. I'm a Malfoy. They either hate or fear me. Or if they are associates of my family, they want something from me."

He missed the sad look that flicked across her face when she turned to look at him.

"You should go join your sister." He said over his shoulder.

She took a hesitant step towards him then stopped. "Of course… I hope to be in the front row. Look for me?"

Draco clenched his jaw at the hopeful tone she used and all he could manage was a sigh as he ignored her hoping she would just leave. He felt nothing but resentment for his alleged fiancé. He tried to remind himself that she was innocent in all of this yet it was difficult at times.

"Must you be so hard on her?"

Draco looked up at the sound of his godfather's voice.

"Is this coming as the head of her house or as my godfather?" Draco muttered before looking down at his dress robes and picked off a few cats hair. "Pansy if you don't keep that cat in a cage…"

"Have you discussed this with your father?"

"You cannot be serious."

For a moment Severus simply studied the young wizard. He knew how to save Draco from a world of heartache. But in doing so the world would crash down upon another and there was simply the vow he could not break.

He wondered if perhaps Draco could manage to find a way out of his predestined future himself.

"Have you examined the contracts for yourself?"

"Not yet. I plan to though. Both of them."

"And I suppose Mr. Nott will be assisting you?"

Draco nodded. "He will be my lawyer someday and it was his idea first."

"That would be wise."

"Ah Severus there you are. Madam Darcy was just looking for you." Flitwick said as he joined them on the stage.

"I see. I will leave you to it then Mr. Malfoy."

Flitwick shook his head as Severus walked away. "I'll never understand him. We all know he's your godfather and yet he still calls you Mr. Malfoy. Alright then, to your position. You'll play the opening as everyone takes their place behind you."

Draco took a deep breath and stood with his chin held high.

"Harry where's Neville?" Hermione whispered, leaning across Ginny and Ron toward Harry. The two youngest Weasley family members sat with stony faces and glaring eyes. Ginny herself had been quite amiable up until Ron shoved himself between Ginny and Harry.

"I can't believe no one told you! He's singing tonight!" Harry explained.

Hermione's eyes widened in astonishment. "I find that rather difficult to believe…"

Shaking her head Ginny gestured wildly. "That's what I said! But apparently the whooping warblers- these balls of chocolate that cause the eater to break out into song- Fred and George sent me to test out got him some attention during lunch a while back. And he was asked to give it a try."

Hermione sat back, shaking her head. "Fascinating. The magic those two invent…."

"At last I have found you!" Stephen exclaimed from Hermione's side as he took the empty seat next to her. "Apologies for being late… something came up." Hermione suspected she saw a blush turn his face red but the lights began to dim, hiding it if he was indeed embarrassed about something. "Excellent seats. Should have the perfect view of Draco playing the piano."

Hermione shifted uncomfortably when Ginny elbowed her in the side.

"I meant to find your sister and invite her to sit with us but hadn't been able to locate her yet."

Stephen stretched his legs out in front of him and yawned. "She's probably buddied up with the other Slytherin girls in her year."

Hermione frowned and glanced to where there was a concentration of splashes of green and silver in the crowds' wardrobe. "Do you not know who her friends are?"

"Hmmm I suppose not. That is I've never been introduced to any."

The curtains began to part, revealing Draco and Hermione couldn't help the skip of her heartbeat. Thoughts of Stephen's sister were replaced with thoughts of Draco. He was elegant and perfect. Every movement as he bowed to the opening round of applause and positioned himself at the keys, was precise and calculated. He was meant for this, she knew without a doubt.

Hermione tugged on the sleeves of her cable knit and tried to inconspicuously straighten her shoulders from their relaxed hunch. A quick glance at her worn muggle jeans and trainers reminded herself that she was forever wearing clothes which she found practical for studying. Her family was very well off and Hermione knew if she wanted to wear expensive clothing it certainly was within her means. Nothing ruined a well thought out essay however than scratchy, tight fitting fabrics.

The feelings of insecurity vanished as Draco began to play the first cords. There was emotion and possibility in each note and when Stephen nudged her gently she looked up at the stage and felt herself fall and entangle ever more in her own personal hell of loving Draco Malfoy.

-The sound of applause fell over Draco in waves and strummed the adrenalin rushing through him. He likened the feeling to flying or the kiss he had stolen from Hermione. He tried to keep his eyes from her as he and the choir took a round of bows, but he couldn't resist the brief moment as he straightened. He was surprised when she met his eyes for the first time in what felt like a lifetime. They were warm, and shining with emotions he had never seen before and therefore couldn't begin to name. Her smile soft, as she slowly clapped her hands.

Draco felt entranced and unable to break the gaze, and pride filled him. She was proud of him. He could feel it. His mixed emotions of frustration and anger toward her evaporated. He hadn't lost her yet.

Finally he noticed Astoria walking towards him and he felt all the warmth from preforming run cold with panic. He couldn't be seen with her. Hoping to lose her in the crowd he turned and strode away.

"C'mon." Stephen said cheerfully as he grabbed Hermione by the wrist and pulled her through the crowd. She didn't particularly like being manhandled and had to resist the urge to pull away from his grip. But it was rather crowded and loud so she allowed it until they were free of the Great Hall.

"Were you planning to go back to the Gryffindor tower?"

"Yes actually-"

"Fantastic. Hey there's Draco. Draco!"

Hermione swallowed nervously and took a step closer to Stephen, trying to force herself to remember she was supposed to be in a relationship… well one sided relationship. But the way her stomach flipped when she saw Draco pause and look back at his name being called quickly reminded her that the illusion of her and Stephen was very fragile and dependent on her acting.

Her future depended on it.

She felt disappointment when he didn't look at her. After the look of pure happiness he had had after his performance, the way they had locked eyes for so long… she had expected something from him. She knew it wasn't fair of her to want such things especially after what she had said to him…

"Spectacular show back there! Cousin Cissy would be proud." Stephen said with excitement as he and Hermione approached Draco at the bottom of a staircase.

"Ah yes well…"

Hermione could tell Draco was uncomfortable with Stephens's words and remained quite. After all what could she possibly say?

"Do you suppose I could convince you to do a bit of fancy playing for-"

Hermione picked up on voices coming down the stairs.

"Roderick you actually went through with it? All the way this time?"

"Stephen quite." Hermione said quietly and held up a hand and ignored his surprise stare and looked past Draco's shoulder toward the stairs.

"What do you mean actually went through with it? She practically begged me to. She couldn't wait for me to push her into that classroom."

By this point three wizards she knew to be Roderick Lestrange and the Avery twins had come into view and she felt a sickening dread. Lestrange had a very dark reputation among the female population. Mostly whispers but she had heard more than she could ever tolerate. Fighting back a curse, she pulled her wand from her waistband and pushed by Draco and Stephen to meet the three other wizards at the bottom of the stairs.

She didn't hesitate to stick the tip of her wand under his chin with a jerk of her hand, effectively silencing the trio into surprise.

"What did you do Lestrange?"

It took a moment for him to smother his surprised look with a slimy smile and shrugged casually.

"Whatever do you mean? Wasn't everyone enjoying Draco here's performance?"

Hermione's eyes widened in understanding and she felt sick. Turning her head she saw Draco and Stephen had joined her side.

"Mary…" she whispered.

Confusion clouded Stephens face but Draco knew instantly. He drew his wand and shouted stupefy, flinging Roderick back onto the stairs knocking him out and began to climb the stairs, taking two at a time.

"Stephen… please trust me and as prefect take these three to Dumbledore's office immediately and tell him… just tell him I'll be there soon."

"Hermione what's going-"

But Hermione had already began to run up the stairs after Draco. She caught up to him at the top as he had paused to decide which direction.

"I think I know where she's at." Hermione gasped out lightly and spun away when he nodded. They ran as quickly as they could through stairways and corridors, Hermione attempting to find the classroom from those weeks ago.

At last she recognized the door and stopped to calm herself before entering. She honestly had no idea what she would find on the other side. All she had were her suspicions and Lestrange's reputation as a disgusting piece of work.

"Why are you waiting Hermione?" Draco urged impatiently and reached for the door knob. She swatted his hand away.

"I'm calming myself. Nothing creates more chaos than the addition of panic. Also… I believe it best that you wait here until I call for you."

"She's my family." Draco said angrily.

Hermione looked up at him sadly and rested a hand on his arm.

"And just what is Lestrange to her other than family? Please…" Hermione pleaded. She knew the feelings she was experience couldn't compare to what Draco might be feeling but she was using rationality as her source of strength right now. And what Mary was feeling was bigger than either of their wants.

"Fine but the moment-"

"Yes the moment she agrees then I'll call for you. I need to go now."

Draco studied Hermione for a brief moment before stepping back, Hermione's hand dropping from his arm and onto the doorknob.

Taking a deep breath she quietly entered the dark room and lit the tip of her wand with a lumos. The old classroom was small and dusty with more than its share of cobwebs and broken furniture. Glancing to her side she found Mary just as she feared she would.

Seated on the dirty floor and leaning against the wall, Mary hugged her knees and her hair created a curtain around her as if were her shield. And she was quiet and still.

"Mary?" Hermione asked quietly as she slowly approached.

Mary lifted her head and Hermione sucked in a quiet breath.

"You mustn't tell Stephen. R-" Mary began in a shaky voice before taking a deep swallow of air. "Roderick didn't…"

Hermione shook her head and knelt in front of Mary and used the sleeve of her sweater to dab the drying blood from the split in Mary's lip. The urge to protect and care seemed to come naturally to Hermione.

She marveled at how strong Mary seemed at the moment. Her face was dry of tears but her face was tight with grief all the same.

"I'm afraid it's too late for that… we were together when I heard… the…" Hermione wanted to say bastard but instead trailed off as the pale face before her crumbled and tears filled her pale eyes. And Hermione felt her heart break. All she could do for the moment was finish cleaning the cut and smeared blood from around her bruised lips.

A moment later Mary turned away and scrambled to her hands and knees to retch in the corner. Hermione herself felt like she would do the same at the moment but she controlled her anger and sadness and held Mary's hair to the side until her dry heaves at last subsided.

"I apologize…" Mary whispered hoarsely and Hermione interrupted with a shake of her head. "What do I do now?"

Hermione knew the answers to countless homework questions and had just as many useless facts stored deep into her mind. She knew the somewhat appropriate reaction too many situations but she had never been prepared for something like this and it panicked her that she didn't have the answer Mary needed.

Mary needed a strong answer, she needed Hermione, a stranger she had met just hours before, to be strong for her.

"I finish cleaning you up and if it's ok with you… Draco comes in and we can either go to the hospital wing or the Headmaster's office. We will go to both but the order is up to you."

Mary stared into Hermione's eyes for a long moment.

"Why are you here? You don't know me."

Hermione gave a soft smile and tucked a long lock over Mary's shoulder.

"You're Draco's family…" Her eyes widened at what she said and she stumbled to correct herself. "I- I meant Stephens… and I'm a Gryffindor with a streak of brashness."

"You can let Draco in. I think I'd like to go to the Headmaster's if you will go with me… Thank you for giving me time…"

Hermione nodded and went to the door to find Draco waiting with his once perfect hair mussed, indicating he had run his fingers through it many times while he waited. She found it made him even more enticing and wished it had been her own fingers.

Despising herself for the inappropriate timing of her inappropriate thoughts she sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose.

"You can come in."

"Is that blood?" Draco asked in a low voice his eyes locked onto the sleeve of Hermione's sweater.

"Yes. I'm not sure how stable her emotional state is so please stay calm and let's get her to Dumbledore's office."

Draco frowned. "Why there? Why are we not taking her to the hosp-"

"I gave her the choice. I told her we would take her to either one first but that we would be going to both."

He ran his fingers through his hair again and Hermione pushed her own behind her ear for distraction.

"If I had my way…"

Hermione attempted an encouraging smile that she felt tremble, the enormity of the situation was beginning to fall onto her shoulders and she felt an urgency to get to Dumbledore. He would know what to do for Mary.

She opened the door wider to allow room for Draco and he straightened his shoulders and walked into the room.

No words were said.

Draco strode to Mary's side and held a hand out to her. She didn't hesitate to accept his help and Hermione followed them out of the classroom smiling sadly when Draco wrapped an arm softly around Mary's shoulders.

Draco was certain he had aged thirty years over the course of the night's events. It seemed like the night would never end as he helped his younger cousin to her feet and then to the headmaster's office. Followed by giving his statement of the events and waiting in the corridor with Hermione and Stephen for Mary to give hers. Then the Black siblings parents, Sirius and Janet had arrived and Dumbledore thanked Hermione and himself but asked if they wouldn't mind heading to bed. Stephen was asked to stay and after Hermione gave Stephen a long hug he followed her out into the hallway.

The two of them hadn't spoken since he entered the old classroom to see Mary's pale face bruising and streaked with drying blood. And now as he walked behind her he didn't know what to say. If he should say anything. So he didn't and decided to escort her to the Gryffindor tower.

It was after some time he noticed that she wasn't going to her common room but rather the Astronomy tower. The hour was creeping into early morning and the tower was more than mildly cold but as Hermione sat by the edge, leaning her arms over the lower rails, he decided he didn't mind and joined her, watching the Forbidden Forest stretch to the horizon and meet the star filled sky.

It was a moment later that he felt her rest her head against his shoulder


	48. Christmas Roses

The lights framing the dressing mirror bathed Hermione in a soft glow as she leaned close to study her hair in the reflection. Wisps of hair went every which way, evading nimble fingers and escaping pins.

“Aren’t you excited? Because I am. Harry will be there… and finally there will be absolutely no Ron! I’m really counting on the twins to keep him busy. By the way you missed a massive piece…”

Hermione’s gaze focused on Ginny through the mirror and took note of her friend’s eager expression. With a sigh she let her hands fall to her lap, abandoning the difficult task of twisting and pinning her hair into something presentable.

“I wouldn’t particularly call what I’m feeling… excitement. More along the lines of when will I learn to just keep to myself and stay out of trouble…” She answered with a bitter expression.

Ginny turned to lay on Hermione’s bed with her head hanging over the edge. “You’re going to an extravagant party where some of the top of Britain’s magical elite will be drinking more than their fair share of adult drinks-“

“You know I don’t care for parties-“

“As I was saying before you rudely interrupted me. Worse than Ron sometimes I swear. A disgustingly extravagant party with gorgeous and funny Black-“

Hermione groaned and twisted from her dressing table to glare at Ginny.

“Why do you insist on reminding me of another of my many mistakes-“

“And you get to dance with him in front of Malfoy, effectively driving away the wizard you so obviously looove.” Ginny broke out into peals of laughter as Hermione’s jaw dropped and she sat with dazed wide eyes.

“Bloody hell…. It never even occurred…I mean I should have! They are family after all. One would think he would attend a family party.” Hermione almost thumped herself in the forehead at her own lack of realization. And just like that she felt butterflies swarming in her chest.

Ginny gave a snort and turned over onto her stomach to study the other witch. “You’re brain sure has lost its edge. And he even has you cursing now. This is baaaad!”

Hermione glared and snatched the nearest hairbrush to throw at her bothersome friend but she paused with her arm in the ready position as an idea suddenly occurred to her.

“Lucius Malfoy.”

“Ah… well perhaps you should avoid that side of the room. Dad has horrible stories about him. He’s practically used as the boogey man around our house. You know when we were younger. ‘Eat your peas or dreadful Mr. Malfoy will glare at you when we take lunch to your father tomorrow.’… I know that look… what did you just think of?”

Hermione’s glare turned into a smile of genuine excitement.

“Ginny this party is going to be… well be brilliant!”

Ginny rolled her eyes when Hermione paused and looked at her expectantly. “Alright, I’ll ask.” She changed her tone to one of exaggerated enthusiasm. “Why is the party suddenly going to be brilliant when just a Quidditch second ago it was the most horrible party ever?”

“This is a party hosted by a Black, with other Black relatives supposedly in attendance.”

“And…?”

“I’ll at last have the chance to ask about that mystery witch from a year ago!”

“This again? Why won’t you let this go Mione’?” Ginny asked with a touch of concern.

Hermione turned back to her mirror and studied her reflection. “You know how I enjoy solving mysteries.”

“Be honest…”

A long moment passed before Hermione spoke again.

“I- I don’t know for certain Ginny. I just felt… something so incredibly strong when I first saw her. As if I had known her my entire life. And she seemed very alone and lost. As if she felt she didn’t belong. Am I making any sense?”

“About as much sense as you usually make.” Ginny said with a small smile. “Now hurry up, I need to get ready too. You’re wearing the blue by the way.”

* * *

 

“Lucius, I wish you had gone with the red dress robes… they do compliment my own so much better than the emerald.” Narcissa said with a clipped tone.

Lucius gave a sniff and gave his waistcoat a light tug. “And give your cousin and his… associates the chance to make ridiculous remarks about Gryffindor over Slytherin influence nonsense? I’d much rather leave the entire Malfoy empire to the house elves.”

Draco closed his eyes and bit back a sigh, silently pleading with his relatives to hurry and open the door. He, along with his parents waited on the steps of an old stone building somewhere in London. Muggles milled about in streets as the evening grew late, though none seemed to pay the extravagantly dressed family any mind causing Draco to remember that his mother’s cousin was a talented curse breaker and perfectly capable of repelling and disguising charms.

This then reminded him of Hermione and the fact that she would be in attendance of the party and the knowledge caused him to be equal parts excited and terrified.

“Draco, do cease your fidgeting… and you have a button loose-“

Relief caused Draco to sigh when at last the door opened to reveal a mildly amused Sirius.

“Narcissa, leave the boy alone. Ah see, Black. If you would take one of those house elves that I’ve been trying to get you to take for years now, your guests wouldn’t be left out in the cold for-“

“Did you ever stop to think maybe I enjoy leaving you out in the cold Lucius? Dromeda and Ted have already arrived. I expect you to be on your best behavior Malfoy. Narcissa! Hurry in! Janet has been running around since last January making preparations and I know she would like your opinion on the table cloths.”

Draco hid a grin at his elder cousins handling of his father and followed the adults into the house, everyone ignoring Lucius’ sneer.  Sirius stood the side as the small family removed their outer robes, Lucius with a sour look on his face and Narcissa casting a critical glance over everyone’s appearance.

“Draco, Stephen is hanging the mistletoe. The other guests should begin arriving any moment. Play nice with Harry…”

With an obliging nod of his head Draco strolled through the house. He gave Tonks and Mary a short nod, hiding his surprise that Mary had decided to attend the party. Madam Pomphrey may have healed the bruises on the outside; he was sure however that she was still hurting. The thought caused him pangs of guilt for not watching over her better.

The fact that she looked away from him and back to the magazine Tonks was pointing at, solidified this thoughts.

“Draco! Come help me finish this.” Stephen called out to him.

He followed the sound of Stephen’s voice, out into the gardens. There were countless lit candles strategically placed throughout the garden, along with holiday décor, refreshments, and a gramophone with traditional carols filling the air. All together it was a setting well within the spirit of holiday cheer.

Near the center of the garden was Stephen perched on a stool with his arms stretched over his head, hanging a gathered bunch of mistletoe from a festive ribbon stretched between candle lit posts.

“Hand me that bit of twine will you? Slipped from my fingers.” Stephen asked with a grunt.

A quick scan of the ground, Draco found the missing twine and returned it to the wobbling boy on the stool.

Desperately biting his tongue to keep from asking about Hermione, when she would be arriving, how she would make it there, did Stephen have more to his plan other than just inviting her there? Had he forgotten that his parents would be there as well and therefore leaving no chance of him enjoying any of this?

A moment later Stephen let himself hop from the stool and brushed his hands together, an excited smile in place.

“Hermione should be here soon, and don’t worry about your overbearing parents. I’m rather certain that he will keep himself more than occupied with trying to wrangle my side into a behavior befitting noble Black blood.”

Draco swallowed nervously and tried to cover it with a shrug. “Why should I be worried? Why are you doing this anyways? We’ve never been close. In fact I always thought you didn’t like me.”

Stephen studied Draco thoughtfully then turned to walk towards the edge of the garden, Draco following with his hands in his pockets.

“You should wait for her. Here that is. The others will more than likely stay near the wine and whiskey all night. Harry will be wrapped up in his moment with Ginny. I’m doing this because you’re family, and she’s my friend. And I can see the guilt in her eyes every time she looks at me or looks at you. She’s all tore up, and so are you. “ Stephen paused and looked over his shoulder as the arrival of new voices drifted across the garden. “Wait for her.”

Draco sighed and turned to stare out at the city lights, hoping somewhere out there   some divine being was watching and ready to finally to release him from his misery. 

He was in love with Hermione Granger and betrothed to another. Unless he found a way to break the contract peacefully… the responsibility of caring for someone else’s heart was more terrifying than he could have ever imagined.

* * *

 

With a smile glued in place, Hermione shook the welcoming hands offered to her, holding back the many questions ready to burst out. She anxiously awaited until pleasantries could be set aside. She had just arrived with Harry and Ginny, as well as Harry’s parents. Arriving at the same time was Regulus Black and his family, and after being introduced to Sirius, she was astonished by how similar the brothers looked.

Ushered into the large family room, there was famous magical creature activist, and Minister’s lead assistant, Remus Lupin, and a wizard introduced to her as Warlock Peter Pettigrew, the wizard expected to someday run for Minister. Hermione found it charming how the round wizard blushed at his friend’s praise but gave her hand a firm handshake.

“And who might this lovely young witch be Sirius?”

Hermione’s breath caught as she looked past Sirius Black and his friends to find what must be Draco’s breathtakingly beautiful mother and by her side watching her carefully with a stony expression was Lucius Malfoy.

Before Sirius could offer introductions Hermione took a deep breath and stepped forward, her hand extended. “I’m Hermione Granger, sixth year student at Hogwarts.”

Sirius gave a small laugh. “Seems she has herself well in hand. I’d like to stay and chat but well… I’d rather not defend my choice of muggle wine tonight Cissy. Too-da-loo!”

“Excuse my cousin. He’s something of a black sheep and revels in reminding me. Narcissa Malfoy and this is Lucius. Say hello dear.” Narcissa said with a regal smile and a short handshake.

Hermione offered her hand to Lucius and waited with an expectant expression. She could see the sneer that nearly threatened to darken his expression and she almost expected him to ignore her. But to her surprise he enveloped her hand in his and gave a slight bow over it.

“I’m wonderfully charmed.” He murmured.

“Likewise.” Hermione said with a pleased smile. She knew what it must have cost the pureblood to put on such an act. Sometimes politeness was so inconvenient.

“Sixth year did you say? Why you must know our son Draco.” Narcissa said.

Hermione kept her smile in place. “I certainly do. Top of the class- well second to me that is, and the star of the Christmas concert.”

“He did seem to inherit my ability to play the piano.” Narcissa said with a proud smile.

“Tell me Miss Granger… Do you have any hidden talents?” Lucius inquired with a genuinely curious look.

His question gave Hermione and she took a moment to answer.

“Silent and wandless magic-“

“You say you are the first in your class yet you have no extracurricular talents? I wonder… perhaps if our son, Narcissa, spent last time in the music room, Quidditch, and business matters, and more time with his studies then he wouldn’t be second to Miss Granger.”

Hermione felt her stomach drop at the insult and stared at Lucius with wide eyes.

“Lucius, be kind. Wandless and silent magic takes a great deal of talent and hard work. I apologize for him my dear, he gets rather defensive when he feels the Malfoy’s claim to greatness is threatened.”

The more she was with Draco’s mother the more Hermione began to admire her. She was rescued from any comment about the insult by the arrival of Stephen at her side.

“I apologize for stealing all of your time from Stephen, it was nice to meet you.” Narcissa said with an incline of her head.

Hermione simply gave a small smile and pulled Stephen to the side.

“Certainly took you long enough. Narcissa is lovely enough but Lucius still has all the manners of a trussed up troll.” Hermione muttered with a glare at the retreating older wizard. A quick snort of laughter from Stephen told her he agreed and she turned to him.

“Can you introduce me to Regulus?” She asked with wide eyes.

“Sure. But why him?”

“I wanted to ask him and your father something.”

“Right then, this way.”

Near the French doors opened to the garden was Sirius and his younger brother, along with James and Remus. Peter seemed to be in a discussion with Harry’s mother Lilly.

“Uncle Regulus, meet Hermione. Gryffindor know-it-all and Harry Potter wrangler. Hermione, Uncle Regulus.” Stephen finished the introduction and allowed Hermione to take over, curious to hear her question.

“Pleasure Mr. Black. I wondered if I might have a moment of your time to ask you a question.”

Regulus gave a surprised nod, exchanging a quick look with his brother before focusing back on the young witch before him.

“I encountered someone… Christmas before last. Someone rather curious. She had appeared to have been injured and her attire was something from many decades before. But more curious than her appearance was what she said. She mentioned your last name and had claimed to of been in Gryffindor yet I’ve never seen her before. I’d remember.” Hermione’s mind raced through all her memories of the white haired witch, deciding to leave out the part where she was apparently a wanted witch.

“I would have put her age at eighteen, she must have been at least seventeen in order to disapperate right? She had light brown eyes, I suppose a poet would call them honey, or gold. Ashen hair, long and thick the first time I saw her. The second time I saw her…” Hermione drifted off as the scene played before her and then she focused on Regulus in realization.

“You were there… at the platform for the Hogwarts Express. Last year, with your daughter and wife. I have an excellent memory. And this girl… she was…”

Regulus now had a frown but was no longer watching Hermione, he was staring into the place over her shoulder until her next words brought his attention back to her.

“She was watching you.”

There was a stretch of silence as Stephen and the older wizards stared at Hermione with wide eyes. Stunned, entranced, she couldn’t be sure. Hermione held her breath, anxious for their reaction, her eyes moving between, Regulus, Sirius and James.

The moment however was broken by the snort of laughter that erupted from James.

“Do you hear that Sirius? Reg here has the old man appeal going for him already!” James slapped a hand down onto Regulus’ shoulder and shook with laughter.

Hermione gave James a glare for a brief moment.

“I apologize Miss Granger, I’m afraid I can’t help you. I don’t know of anyone who fits your description.” Regulus said with a quiet voice and when she looked at Sirius for his side, his expression was solemn but he shook his head.

Hermione’s shoulders fell slightly in disappointment. “I see. Well thank you for your time anyways. And for allowing me to come to the lovely party. Well, I’ll go find Ginny and Harry.” She turned to leave but turned back when Sirius called for her to wait.

“Why would you look for someone like this? Someone who you barely saw two moments?” He asked.

Hermione thought back to her answer to the same question asked earlier by Ginny.

“Typically when I stumble across a mystery, I cannot help myself, I must solve it.”

This time Regulus spoke.

“That’s it? The only reason?”

Hermione smiled softly.

“No… it’s not. I could tell she felt she didn’t belong and something desperate drives me… I just want to tell her that she does. But she ran away before I could.”

The two brothers gave small matching nods and Hermione took her leave, Stephen following at her heels. As she passed through the doors and into the garden she didn’t see Lucius Malfoy step from around a corner to watch her depart, his expression contemplative.

The air in the garden had the scent of pine and holly berry, charmed a comfortable temperature, made warmer by the gentle glow of candles. Hermione paused just outside the terrace doors and inhaled the crisp scent and closed her eyes. After a moment she opened them and her gaze wandered over the beautifully trimmed trees and bushes, the occasional fountain and holiday decor. Several guests mingled near the door, their voices a soft murmuring with the occasional rumble of laughter.

In a word it was lovely. Almost made her forget the fact that Draco was supposedly somewhere at the party yet he had not made an appearance.

“This is not what I was expecting…” Hermione began but she stopped when she realized that her words might offend Stephen though she relaxed when he gave a quiet laugh.

“Not what you expected to find owned by the Sirius Black.”

“I’m going to ignore the fact that you referred to your father as ‘the’ and skip to the fact that yes. Not what I expected.”

Stephen gave a shrug and nodded his head towards the garden path, indicating they should walk.

“It’s true that if it were just him he would probably live in a car outside of the Potter house. But he met mum at a muggle concert in the Americas. And mum may know her music but she’s full of class and always wanted a garden. And dad can’t say no to her.”

“How very… romantic. Never would have thought a boy who was famous for making toilets explode would grow up and turn into… well that. Perhaps there’s still a chance to Ginny’s brothers Fred and George.”  

“There just might be! Hey… are you thirsty? Why don’t you keep walking and I’ll go get us some drinks?” Stephen changed the subject abruptly.

Hermione gave him a curious look but agreed with a shrug and continued to enjoy all that the Black garden had to offer. As she wandered the sounds of the party faded to a distant hum, the sound of the music from the gramophone down to a quiet beat.

She looked to her left and there was Ginny and Harry attempting to pull the other into the pull of the mistletoe, shrieks of laughter and taunts erupting from them. Hermione smiled at their playfulness, happy her friends finally had a moment away from the watchful and protective eyes of Ron.

All thoughts and movement came to a halt as she took a turn around a lovely bush of white roses. Her mind had been contemplating which charms were used to keep the bush healthy in the middle of winter. But these musings were scattered when she caught sight of Draco Malfoy standing on the other side of the great rose bush.

There he stood tall, his back facing her yet his hands were clasped behind his back, and his shoulders were stiff. Suddenly nervous, Hermione subconsciously rand her hands over the skirt of her dress, tormented on what she should do.

Her first instinct was to make her presence known, to have him turn to see her and hope that his eyes would still light up at the sight of her… despite all she had done. But reality snaked its way around her desires and she looked away from him, locking her eyes on the pale roses. His father’s threats still haunted her. The thought of losing her future made her feel cold and doubt made her shiver.

Then something spectacular happened. A flicker of movement in the corner of her eye, so subtle it would have been easy to miss. This movement grasped her attention and pulled her gaze back to the wizard who would always be just out of her reach, just out of her reality. In this moment Hermione held her breath and watched as Draco turned towards her.

All her doubts melted away when despite everything she had done and said to him, horrible things that he didn’t deserve, his light grey eyes lit up at the sight of her. A small smile eased across his lips.

The relief Hermione hadn’t realized she had been waiting months to feel spread throughout her body and she answered with a smile of her own and took a step forward. She watched as he quickly looked to the roses and gently snapped one from its stem and with his thumb broke each of the thorns off.

Hermione’s stomach gave a flip at the sight of the small tremor of his hands.

She stopped just close enough for the edges of her dress to brush against his knees, her doe brown eyes locked on his stormy grey. For a moment neither spoke, though there was so much to say, enough to fill an arithimancy tome. Instead Draco held out the perfect rose and without hesitation Hermione accepted.

Hermione’s happiness dimmed when thoughts of what she was risking edged in, creating chasms in her chest and she turned serious eyes from the rose back to the wizard standing before her. She studied him, his hair parted perfectly and swept to the side, though a few strands threatened to fall across his eyes, his dress robes tailored to his tall and slim figure. He raised his hands to hold her elbows, causing the familiar scent of him to remind her that she was truly about to seal her fate.

“No can know about this Draco…” Hermione whispered, her eyes pleading. “They can’t know about us.”

For a moment he had no reply though his expression was torn, his light smile replaced with a small frown, and thoughts he didn’t voice though she knew he had them for he tighten his hold on her elbows.

 “We don’t have time to discuss everything now as I’m sure your parents will be searching for you soon.” Hermione paused long enough to raise her hands to grasp the edges of his suit jacket. “What do you say?”

Hermione knew her heart was in her eyes, she couldn’t help it. She was tired of finding reasons… very reasonable reasons too, that they shouldn’t be together. With every new excuse she found to run away, Hermione felt as if she were losing more and more. And though she was young, she was finding it more and more difficult to deny herself what she knew would truly make her happy. 

Now she had finally let down her walls, said her small stipulation, all she could do now was wait.

Draco didn’t make her wait long; she knew the moment he agreed for he was much more expressive than he would probably like to admit. Whatever internal battle he had to wage within was extinguished with the return of his smile.

“You’re right, we haven’t long since you took you’re lovely time getting here and you talk too much.” Draco leaned down and Hermione closed her eyes in anticipation of being kissed on Christmas Eve. However he stopped a breath away and after the pause drew out she opened her eyes again. “You look stunning by the way.”

Heat brought a rosy tint to her cheeks and she took pleasure in the cliché moment that was all theirs.

“Now who’s talking too much?” She asked with a bit of cheeky bite and slipped her hands up the nape of his neck, the rose pressed into his hair and pulled him down to embrace him in the much anticipated kiss.

Both released sighs and closed their eyes, fingers tightened reflexively and lips met.

* * *

 

There were times when Lucius truly felt that there was no hope for those around him. He was continually underestimated and thought to be a fool. Certainly not the younger generation that is. Those more his age, his peers, had learned long ago that he was not a wizard to be trifled with.

A lesson it seemed was in great need to be passed along to the up and comers. They had no idea what he had to do to secure this perfect future for his family, and he refused to stand by and watch it squandered. No he had worked to make his legacy great; every move he made had been planned for far longer than anyone could comprehend. And they had just reached the true beginning.  

Lucius took a sip of wine and watched his wife’s younger cousin, Stephen; take much longer than was necessary in appropriating refreshments for, word around the family, one Miss Hermione Granger.

Seems as if the two had somehow become involved recently, enough so to warrant her an invitation to a family and close friends only event.

Narrowing his gaze as Stephen wandered back around to the garden and slipped out into it… without the drinks.

“Perhaps it’s time to tell the family about Draco’s upcoming nuptials.”

Narcissa up glanced from watching those gathered throughout the main room. “I thought we agreed to wait until he graduated from Hogwarts. Really Lucius being a Malfoy and a young wizard is difficult enough, do we really want to announce to the world that we signed his happiness away?”

Lucius felt a sting of offense. “I myself had my happiness ‘signed’ away as you put it.”

“As did I dear husband, as did I. And while I did find happiness, it was very difficult, watching everyone else go through the trials of new love and heartbreak. I always dreamed of giving that chance to my own son.”

Lucius felt the black cloud of defeat. “Perhaps next season will mark a more appropriate time to announce his engagement. After all we will be hosting the event.”

Narcissa gave his arm a gentle pat and smiled. “Perfectly lovely idea. I shall write to the Greengrass family after the holidays to inform them.”

Lucius fell into silence as he watched his son slip back into the house and occupy himself between the party guests and a moment later Hermione and Stephen hovered near James Potter. To the untrained eye the occurrence was perfectly innocent… except for the occasional glance in a certain direction and a smile full of secret glee. Lucius scowled when his son returned the gesture, ready to throw his previous agreement to the wolves. He was damned if he would allow his legacy to fall to ruin over a handful of coy glances.

As he left Narcissa to seek out some other entertainment, resigned with gaining her ire for he was certain she would have a few choice words when he was done with the muggleborn. As he neared the younger witch he caught a few words of her question to Potter.

“-awfully strange indeed Mr. Potter. I found it incredibly intriguing when your vault key was returned… to no knowledge of it even being missing!”

“Hermione honestly, it’s James, please for the hundredth time. I’ve known you since forever. No more manners and just think of me as an uncle or something. And tell me about it. I had some serious explaining to do to Lily.”

“Tell me about the… what was it… Incan? Yes the Incan gold! How terribly fascinating.”

 Lucius curiosity was piqued and he chose to study a picture of Lily and James on their wedding day. A perfectly mundane picture if you asked him but it served his purpose. For he only knew of one person that had ever had access to the Potter vault at Gringotts other than a Potter themselves.

“Ah yes another bloody mystery. A fortune in gold, old, very old. Gringotts has got its best collaborating with archeologists and have dated it back to around the twelfth century. Who, why, what’s, no idea what so ever.”

“Might I see one? As you know I’m very interested in history and when Harry told me about this…”

Lucius left the conversation behind, no longer interested in listening to Granger and Potter make plans. His mind was racing and he began to make plans of his own. Perhaps he would ignore the pressing issue of his son’s unsuitable infatuation, and instead take advantage of Miss Grangers thirst for answers.

Brea Fox had disappeared from history, believing her work was done. She was wrong. So very wrong.

So engrossed with his plan he failed to notice Draco and Hermione slowly gravitating toward each other until they stood close enough for him to brush his knuckles against the back of her hand, a hand holding a rose, before moving away.

Lucius missed the tender touch but Narcissa had not.


	49. Couldn't Hardly Wait

Dark, cold, and polished… words Draco would use to describe the rich perfection of Lucius Malfoy’s study. Walls of extensive dark wood paneling with built in shelves, an impressive Italian rug led to a dominating matching dark wood desk. A room where powerful purebloods made powerful decisions over aged brandy and cigars, the silver seal of House Malfoy watched from its mount behind the desk. Like his father before him, it was a room where he used wealth and legacy to decide the fate of thousands. Draco rarely ventured into his father’s study. The rich and impressive room seemed to have a personality of its own which was at odds with the rest of his family’s home.

There was little room for laughter or play in such a room, while not quite cruel in its elegance, it was simply quiet. Draco could remember his grandfather, Abraxas, handing over the title as head of the family to his father when he was much younger, and the room remained unchanged from that day.

As a boy, Draco spent little time in his father’s study. It was not a place where the chatter of his curious mind was welcome. Instead he had his own wing of the house to occupy. Most of the family seat was polished and sophisticated however there was still warmth to the walls, a sense of family ingrained into the hardwood floors, marble tiles, and soft carpets.

Generations of Malfoys of the past each left their own mark, a new wing was added or an ancient heirloom displayed but his mother’s additions were his favorite. She had an affinity for anything reminiscing to the age of Queen Victoria. He inherited his father’s looks but his nature… the way he found romance in music and his appreciation of art came from his mother.

Where his father had portraits of stern browed Malfoy ancestors or great influential wizarding moments, his mother had insisted on her bronze bust of Millicent Fawcett in a prominent position in her favorite drawing room. The garden design influenced by the famous Gertrude Jekyll. Romantic paintings of the Italian Terraces graced the galleries where his mother spent most of her day as she sorted through upcoming charity events or arranging to meet with business associates. Annual horse drawn carriage rides through the country and garden parties were traditions she brought with her to the Malfoy family.

These whimsical eccentrics were the cause of many grumblings from his father about her romantic ways and how it influenced Draco, yet rarely was he to be taken serious. Draco was grateful for these facets to his soul.

As Draco and Theo carefully searched his father’s study in the early morning of the eve of the New Year, he could pick out the faint tune of Franz Liszt playing from across the hall which brought a smile to his lips and the memory of Hermione gifting him with Chopin the year before.

His mother had been delighted as he played; his father however had watched him with a closed expression, giving no hint to Draco on his unconventional choice of entertainment for a house full of pureblood witches and wizards.

“I have looked through all of these drawers Draco and there’s no sign of the marriage contract.” Theo said in a low voice.

Draco himself was studying a row of books when he looked toward his friend. “I’m not finding anything over here. Just memoirs of dusty old wizards.” As much as he would enjoy drifting off into thoughts of Hermione he had a rather important mess to get out of if he were to enjoy any true happiness with her.

Theo closed the drawer he had been sifting through with a sigh and studied the grand desk, and annoyed pinch to his brows. “When I said I would help look for a way out of this for you, this is not what I had in mind.”

“The sacrifice of your early morning newspaper reading in the effort to gain my freedom is greatly appreciated.” Draco sneered at Theo before joining him at his father’s desk.

Theo ignored him and tapped a finger on his chin. “We tried magic and we’ve tried looking without magic. What else is there?”

“Wherever it is… we need to hurry. Father wasn’t expected to be gone long. Perhaps there’s some hidden drawer…” Draco gave a light grunt as he knelt on the floor and twisted his neck to look underneath the desk. The thin line of a rectangle was easily missed by the eye but when Draco ran his fingers across the smooth wood he felt the edge of cut wood.

“I’ve found something. Theo, cast a lumos.” Draco waited while Theo knelt beside him and maneuvered the lit tip of his wand, bathing the hidden compartment in light. “I don’t see a handle or a latch…”

Theo pushed his way under the desk; Draco’s head thumped the side of the desk with a light crack. “Try pressing up on the wood, it might snap open.”

Draco rubbed the back of his head and bit back a retort. Instead he pulled back and stood. “Why don’t you do it since you’re so eager?”

Theo gave a shrug and pushed lightly on the wood. As he predicted the desk gave a small click and lowered a hidden compartment. Small with just enough room to reach a hand into Theo pulled out several rolls of parchment.

“Give them to me.” Draco demanded with his hand out.

Theo resisted the urge to roll his eyes and ignored Draco’s outstretched hand. Instead he stood and set the rolls of parchment on the desk.

Draco picked up the nearest one and unrolled the parchment and began to scan the long flowing scrawl of his father’s script. Finding nothing more than a list of what looked like muggle wines he tossed it aside and picked up the next. Nothing seemed to make sense on this one. It appeared to be a series of dates with small notes scribbled beside them.

“1944- _It must happen then. “_ Draco read aloud, not fully understanding what his father could mean. There was date after date but before Draco could find out more Theo broke through his thoughts.

“Malfoy I found it. Well one of them that is.” Theo drifted off as he scanned the contract in his hand.

Draco watched him in anticipation but Theo was frowning in concentration.

“Well? Which one is it?”

Theo looked up; his dark eyes gleamed in satisfaction. “The first marriage contract, the one between you and my long lost cousin.”

* * *

 

“They are only letters Granger… get it together and read them.” Hermione toyed with the tips of her hair, nervous and excited. She sat alone in her room save for Crookshanks, who was enjoying the rare winter sunshine from the window sill. In two even stacks before her were the letters Draco had sent during the summer.

Letters Hermione had been avoiding as if they were contaminated with the pox. Yet things had changed for Hermione. Her breath still caught at the memory of Christmas Eve and she found a bit of her old courage when it came to dealing with Draco.

At last she felt comfortable reading what Lucius Malfoy had made her too afraid to.

A slight tremor in her hand was evident as she reached out and picked up the first letter Draco had sent.

Elegant and warm handwriting greeted her.

Draco asked after her and her family, even asking about the “terrible half-breed.” Hermione grit her teeth with a pang of annoyance towards him but she moved past it with a huff.

She had expected each letter to become more and more agitated with her as she read through each one and to some point she could feel the tension in the way he described the events since the letter before. He used fewer descriptive words and mentions of his father and his businesses took over.

No small amount of disgust and anger was felt toward Lucius in the way he seemed to be stripping Draco of his childhood. The letters revealed that instead of visiting the beach during the hot weather, he sat in on meetings upon meeting. Was tasked with paperwork and even described the first time he had had to fire an employee.

Never once did he make his anger toward her lack of communication obvious, and Hermione felt pangs of guilt. Only for a moment did she allow herself to feel awful for ignoring Draco before she reminded herself that she had a perfectly legitimate reason. Her future was important to her. It was exhausting having to choose between her dreams and living in the moment. Soaking up the warmth she felt around Draco.

Since that brief moment in the Black’s garden she had told herself that everything would be ok. She didn’t doubt what she felt anymore but she did have her doubts that it would last.

* * *

 

“Draco, I was just coming for you. Dinner has been announced.” Narcissa said as Draco passed her on the staircase.

Draco continued up the stairs but called over his shoulder. “I’ll just be a moment. I need to send a letter to Theo.”

“I’m certain that can wait. We have guests joining us.” Narcissa almost mentioned the fact that Theodore had only just left but something deep inside told her to leave it, so she did.

Draco paused his ascension and turn to stare down at his mother. The look on his face told her that he already knew who.

“The sweater will be appropriate as this isn’t a formal setting… just an evening dinner between family members.” Narcissa said in as gentle voice she could. She watched as the emotions left his face and she was left with a replica of his father when anyone other than herself was with him.

Quietly he turned back toward his path. “I need a moment mother. Please.” Draco said simply before hurrying away.

Narcissa watched him go before she herself turned away to join their guests in the dining room.

Lucius and Mr. Greengrass stood from their seats at the table, with Lucius moving to help her to her seat at her end of the table.

“Please pardon Draco’s tardiness. He had something he needed to finish.” Narcissa said.

All four of the Greengrass family in attendance nodded their understanding while Lucius instead glanced toward the entrance.

“Finish? What could he possibly need to finish?” He demanded.

Narcissa gestured toward Dobby their houself and the wide eyed creature stumbled forward to hand her a glass of wine.

“I’m sure I don’t know Lucius. Perhaps a letter to his friend Theodor.” Narcissa had no wish to lie to her husband, only hoped he wouldn’t remember the boy had been over just a short time before.

“I fail to see why he would keep our guests waiting in order to write a letter to a boy he only just saw. You told him who would be dining with us?”

Narcissa tried to keep herself from taking a gulp of her wine.

“Oh he knows…” Narcissa murmured.

* * *

 

It was with a sigh of teenage angst that Draco penned a swift note to Hermione, only a few lines on how he wished they were together to welcome the New Year and his eagerness to see her once more on the Hogwarts Express.

* * *

 

The start of 1997 at Hogwarts had Hermione full of energy and hope. The end of her sixth year was just around the corner. Her application for Head Girl had been completed and submitted. And she was in love with a boy who loved her back.

Upon their return to school Draco and Hermione had created a marvelous web of disappearing acts, of solid alibies and perfect excuses. Hermione sometimes mused that they would have made wonderful spies.

“Miss Granger, do you take pleasure in ignoring every order given? Do you find the idea of possible detention thrilling?”

The dark voice of Professor Snape felt like a bucket of ice poured over her head, snapping her back to the present. Hermione quickly realized that her pleasant thoughts about how wonderful the New Year was going had lulled her into a sense of day dream and she flushed with embarrassment.

Every eye in the advanced potions class was looking at her in speculation, particularly the stone faced professor besides her.

“I apologize Professor Snape.” Hermione said quietly, willing her body temperature to return back to normal.

“Will someone with a more natural ability to listen, please tell Miss Granger my request of her? I abhor repeating myself despite her best efforts.”

Hermione felt absolutely mortified.

“Draco, please tell Miss. Granger my request.”

Hermione felt a light sense of shock go through her and she met the equally stricken gaze of Draco’s before forcing her eyes back to her professor’s dark eyed glare. He had never looked at her quite like that.

“Yes, of course Professor Snape.” Draco said after clearing his throat. “The professor said to gather the ingredients for Mandrake Restorative Draught… for everyone.”

With nothing more than a quiet “of course Professor Snape.” Hermione stood from her seat and began to fill the professor’s order, silently scolding herself for allowing her mind to wonder during class.

As time began to pass Hermione began to notice a change in the Professor Snape’s behavior towards her. While he had never treated her any more different than any other student, he had never been necessarily cruel towards her, yet that is certainly what he became.

He often dismissed her raised hand with snide remarks and instead called on Draco for the answer. And while Draco was often correct, the times where he was wrong, the Professor offered kind encouragement.

Frustration began to build in Hermione when despite her efforts her grade fell to just a point below Draco’s. It came to the tipping point of her anger by mid spring.

Draco had a small frown as he followed the pacing form of Hermione. They had broken away from friends and were now absconded to the hidden garden.

“I don’t understand it Draco. How could it have come to this?”  Hermione ran a hand through her hair as she turned on her heel to walk in the other direction. “I mean… I do everything right. I know for a fact that I stopped stirring the potion at the precise moment and what still happens? The potion destabilizes and explodes.” Hermione waved her hands around a bit wildly. “Have I _ever_ had a potion explode? No. I have not. And you. I noticed that your flobberworm mucus was too cloudy yet Snape _still gave you points_.”

Draco didn’t know whether to laugh or roll his eyes, yet some deeply wise part of him neither would help the situation. He reclined to rest his hands behind him on the bench with his legs stretched out, instead of making a remark on his Professor’s unfairness, he admired the passion causing Hermione’s face to glow and her hair to wave wildly.

“Why are you so relaxed about this? His behavior is appalling!”

Draco did at this point roll his eyes. He did nothing yet was still at fault.

“I don’t know why he is doing this. If you like, I could give you some lessons on potionering.” He regretted his words immediately.

“Malfoy, if anyone needed lessons it would be you…” Hermione sighed and sat heavily on the bench beside him, her hands resting limply in her lap. “I realize that I’m being absolutely mental over one point. And I know it’s nothing you yourself have caused. This is just so very important to me. Every day I wake up and I get to learn… learn about _magic.”_

She cautioned a quick glance at Draco and took in his curious expression before looking back at the garden.

“It’s different for you. You grew up surrounded by this world. You knew that you would someday come here just as your parents did and their parents before them. You didn’t _get_ to come learn about magic, you were _expected_. You are magic.” Hermione paused for a deep breath then focused on her hands. “I grew up with kind and understanding parents making reasonable explanations for the odd things their odd daughter could do. They bribed children with the prize of fun at the beach or cinema if they played with their odd daughter who could change the color of their clothes. It worked while at the park but at school it was a different matter. The teachers didn’t like it when their wrong answers would disappear from the chalk board and the right answer appeared. Now… now I’m in a world where I’m not different and I don’t want to lose that. I honestly believe that there are children out there who never find their way to the wizarding world Draco. What if I had been one of them? I want to deserve to belong.”

Hermione finished laying a part of her soul bare, feeling exhausted.

“Granger, your grades do not determine your worth and if Dumbledore were going to ask anyone to leave for poor grades then your friends Weasley and Potter would have been shown the door long ago.” Hermione watched as Draco slipped a hand into one of hers, giving it a light squeeze. “You are brilliant… one of the many reasons I… adore you. You do deserve to be here, a part of this world. Shaping it and making it better. As wonderful as you find it, it is a very flawed world. Certain… views of my fathers can attest to that. But it is already that much better because you found your way to it.”

Hermione finally looked up through her lashes at the young wizard by her side, his words resonating through her, warming her.

“Thank you Draco.”

He leaned in with a soft smile and pressed his lips to her forehead, the scent of her air coming over his senses, causing him to silently thank the gods that she found her way to him.

* * *

 

It was later that same evening Hermione had joined her fellow tower mates in the Gryffindor common room. Ron had asked Lavender Brown her opinion on what he should buy his mother for her birthday, Harry poured over Quidditch strategies, leaving Ginny to join her by the window seat where she began to fill her friend in with their professors odd behavior shift.

Part way through her hushed explanation a thought came to her.

“I’m so blind Ginny… why had it not occurred to me before?”

Ginny gave a halfhearted shrug. “Granger, I gave up long ago trying to answer that question, as you ask it so often it seems. Now be a good witch and explain before I decide to go tell Harry he’s picking the wrong plays.”

“Who in the entire world besides Draco’s father would want to create a divide between us?”

“I’m sure I don’t know-“

“His godfather.” Hermione interrupted with an angry expression. “Professor Snape is Draco’s godfather and I’m more than certain Lucius Malfoy enlisted his help in keeping us apart. And Snape knows how important grades are to me so he begins to pit Draco and me against each other.”

“Really Hermione, I won’t say you’re wrong but that seems rather underhanded of a professor. If his behavior were called to account he could be ruined. Would he risk such a thing on teenage love?”

Hermione contemplated her friend’s words. “He’s Slytherin Ginny. Cunning and resourceful. With Lucius to protect him… is there anything he wouldn’t do to protect his godson from ruining one of the oldest pureblood lines with a muggleborn like me?”

 

* * *

 

The next day a morning post owl left a yawning Hermione with a letter. A letter which she quickly opened and read its contents. Holding back a yelp of excitement she gathered her belongings and left her half eaten breakfast behind.

It was with impatience she waited near the stairs that led down to the basement, watching from behind the corner for Draco to appear. When he did he was walking slowly next to Theodor Nott.

“When will the photograph albums arrive?” Hermione could hear Draco ask.

“Grandmother is having the estate in the Netherlands searched. After her son died, most everything that had to do with him was moved, including pictures of his daughter, her way of coping and grieving I suppose. It was all very difficult to request of a woman of her years Malfoy so please have patience.”

Before he could reply Draco saw a familiar shade of brown out of the corner of his eye.

“I’ll work on my patience when you work on your agreeableness. You go on… I need something from my armoire.” He waited while Theo disappeared down the hall before joining Hermione. “Couldn’t wait another moment to see me hmm?” he said.

Hermione rolled her eyes but answered his smile with one of her own. “Indeed, couldn’t hardly wait.” With a quick bounce on her toes she gave him a happy peck on the lips. “I have just received the most spectacular news Draco.” She held up her folded letter. “I’ve just heard from Madam Bagshot. She’s received a grant, a request to research something- she didn’t say what. She wants to bring me along for the summer as her assistant. Oh Draco this is wonderful!”

Draco took in her happy smile, the excited way she read her letter again. With a pang of sadness he realized that all plans to have a summer together, plans which he had yet to ask her about were now to be forgotten.

Rather than speak of broken plans that hadn’t even been made yet he pushed his sadness away.

“See? Magical dreams are already coming true for you and that potion class yesterday still means nothing.”

Her eyes went soft briefly before a shadow fell over them. “I won’t… I won’t have any opportunity to see you over the summer.”

Desperate to chase the shadows away he gave her a deep kiss, his hand held the back of her neck while her fingers slid to his waist. The sound of the first bells ringing in the bell towers broke them apart. Draco pulled back just enough to hold her brown eyed gaze.

“We’ll just make the most of the time we have Granger. And we’ll write till our ink wells are dry. And then you’ll come back and I’ll be waiting to take my place beside you as Head Boy and you has Head Girl. Then we will have the most wonderful seventh year possible. A year we won’t forget.”


	50. The Aid of Fate

 

 

Professor Snape continued his unfair treatment of Hermione through to the end of the school term, yet he could not deny her grades which she undoubtedly deserved. Many an evening she spent frustrated and confused but she learned to press forward through the professors critical words toward her class performances.

Draco, with the help of Theo, continued to look for clues on the disappearance of Helen Nott and her daughter. There was little they could do from the confines of the castle walls and Theo’s grandmother, while willing to retrieve photo albums of her son, she was not willing to send them to a “crumbling castle being held together by ghosts and Dumbledore’s stubbornness.” This left them at a standstill until Draco could visit the Nott manor in the quickly approaching summer.

Despite Draco’s frustrations over his nuptial contracts he grew closer to Hermione. Often prefect patrols would detour into conveniently hidden hallways for an embrace that would leave them wanting more. Sunsets after the evening meal spent sharing a book, taking turns to read while the other ran fingers through the reader’s hair. The occasional bet lost on whether Ron would make a fool of himself in class with the looser running to take a dip in the Black Lake while the winner cheered and was ready to join in.

Only on nights when they knew they wouldn’t be missed did they steal away to the roof of one of the bell towers to watch the stars move across the night sky while they lay bundled in warm blankets.

Eventually Ginny brought up the topic of taking the next step. A step that Hermione, while not against, just didn’t feel it was the right moment, and certainly had no wish to do something so important hidden away in the castle darkness, afraid of being caught and expelled. Draco never pressured her but on more than one occasion Hermione had had to be the sensible one and cool things down a few degrees.

The last night of the school term found the pair on their own prefect rounds, slowly checking their assigned floors until they met on the sixth floor.

“Have you ever been in the Reward’s Room?” Draco asked quietly.

“I’ve read about it in _Hogwarts’s A History_ and actually have plans to find it someday. Madam Bagshot wrote that it’s a magic filled room. No matter the smallest accomplishment the student achieves it is automatically displayed in the room.”

Draco grinned. “Want to go? We’re on the sixth floor anyways. It’ll be interesting to see if we can find ourselves and what accomplishments Hogwarts says we’ve achieved.”

Answering his grin Hermione picked up the pace. “I quite like that idea. Do you know where it is?”

“Yes indeed. Sirius would tell us stories of him and his friends in this castle.”

Hermione frowned. “I always assumed you wouldn’t be allowed around him… you know seeing as he married a muggleborn. Yet you’re quite involved with his branch of the family.”

Draco’s face fell serious and he shrugged. “Once his parents died, Regulus, his younger brother, brought him back to the family. My father doesn’t agree but he can’t deny my mother’s wish to see her family. As long as it’s not too often that is.”

“He must love your mother deeply…” Hermione muttered with a hint of sarcasm.

“My father may be many things, but the importance of family and furthering its success is paramount to him. He often says… never mind here we are.”

Draco led her to a portrait that dominated the end of the hall. “Vindictus Viridian,” Hermione whispered as the man in the painting came awake with a surly expression.

“You there, why are you disturbing me.” The old Headmaster grumbled.

Draco stepped forward and in a firm voice demanded entry. “We are prefects and it is our duty to make sure that there are not any delinquent students in the Room of Rewards.”

The old man scoffed. “No such students have entered. Now off with you!”

Hermione stepped forward this time. “Excuse me sir but you have heard of the Weasley twins am I correct? They are notorious for knowing every hidden passage and can gain access into any room I assure you.”

Nodding Draco added, “And we have serious reason to believe that they have done just that. Now once more allow us entrance immediately.”

“I want them removed this instant!” Viridian yelped as his portrait swung open.

Hermione and Draco shared a smile before stepping in. No need to inform the old portrait that the twins were long gone from the castle walls.

The torches lining the walls immediately lit, a welcome glow covering every surface as Hermione watched in wonder. There were walls of certificates and photos, medals and trophies, a hall specifically for prefects and one for head boy and girl.

The two began to wonder around checking the photos and reading the accomplishments.

“Here’s Ron from when he defeated Sue Li for the championship of Wizards Chess last year.” Hermione said proudly.

Draco glanced over his shoulder and rolled his eyes at the picture.

“You never mentioned you were an artist.” He said instead and turned his attention back to a coal sketch of Hogwarts. Hermione joined him and blushed at the sight of her first year self.

“I dabble. I entered the contest in first year hoping to make a few friends in the Art Club. It was the only year.”  She moved on to a new hallway, smiling at the various proud students, the further she walked the more unfamiliar they became. That is until she saw who at first she assumed to be Harry. Upon closer inspection it dawned on her that the picture was of James Potter and his friends. They were crowded around a familiar looking witch.

“Draco!” Hermione gasped, and he was by her side instantly. “That’s her!” Hermione pointed to the short blonde who had a cocky grin as she stood with her arms crossed tapping her wand on her opposite arm. She tilted her head back and shared a smile with Regulus. Adoration in their eyes. The plaque below the picture said “Brea Fox and Regulus Black win Dueling Championship, 1975.”

“Look there’s your cousin Sirius. And next is Regulus. Seems he was her partner. 1975? And here in 1976, here she is with Remus Lupin for the same thing. Draco she didn’t look a day older than eighteen. If she went to school here in 1975… Draco this girl makes no sense. Her wanted poster in the Ministry of Magic? Do you remember that? And at the Christmas party Sirius, James, and Regulus didn’t know who she was… and yet clearly they did.” Hermione trailed off.

“Do you think she used a memory charm on them? Perhaps she became a dark witch and used obliviate to escape?”

“Another question we haven’t considered Draco. Who put that wanted post up? Who else wants her found? Who else is looking for Brea Fox?”

Draco stood silently as he searched for the answer but came up with none, and he watched as Hermione ran a finger over the name plate.

“I don’t know Hermione but you have leads now. My family may have been a dead end but now you have a name. A name and the knowledge that someone else out there knows who she is. Or rather is looking for her.”

Hermione took a deep breath and gave a firm nod. “Thank you for bringing me here Draco. Let’s go before Headmaster Viridian becomes suspicious.”

Draco chuckled as he followed her back the way they came.

“Just what sort of punishment could they do Granger?”

Hermione flashed a smile over her shoulder. “Spend the night in the Forbidden Forest? That sounds intriguing. Harry and Ron have, so surely you could handle it?”

The sound of his offended scoff had her heart swelling with happiness despite the heavy sadness. She was going to miss him.

* * *

 

“Draco, have a seat. Thank you for joining.” Lucius welcomed his son to his office without looking from the portfolio in his hands.

Draco rolled his eyes and his father’s formality.

“This is my first morning home and I will come here every morning for our daily meeting, there’s no reason to be so formal. I’m your son.”

Lucius raised his brows yet still did not look at him for a moment, instead he finished reading, sighed the document with a flourish before setting the portfolio on his desk.

“There is always reason to be formal when business is involved. Must we have this conversation every first morning of your break?” Lucius replied in a bored tone.

“Very well father.” Draco knew his father cared for him but he feared they would never be anything other than formal in most cases. “What does today’s meeting agenda hold for us.”

“A summer project. The House of Fabergé is to sell its jewelry license. Muggles have been in possession of the Fabergé license since 1964. You are to negotiate terms of purchase with the current owner, move the business from Paris back to Saint Petersburg. It will be your decision on choosing a jeweler, preferable a pureblood as I want the brand name to revert back to its wizarding clientele.”

Draco sat in stunned silence. His first instinct was to let his emotions rise. Business was not something he truly wished to do, especially not when the rest of the wizards his age would be enjoying lazy mornings and pressure free activities all day.

But then he remembered who he was and where he came from. The Malfoy’s did not have lazy mornings or played Quidditch all day with their mates. They sacrificed these things for success, for power. Something Draco knew he was born to want. And if he was honest, perhaps this would keep him from missing Hermione or dwelling on the marriage contracts.

“I have conditions.” Draco said with a cold voice.

“I’ll hear them.”

“I want Theo as my lawyer, I will be the sole CEO, and any decision in regards to Fabergé will be mine and mine alone. This means I choose the location, the jeweler, all the way down to the décor. And I want the marriage contract to Astoria Greengrass dissolved. ”

“Draco, this is not a decision I make lightly. The potential of Fabergé… it could become the best name in wizarding jewelry since muggles took over so long ago. I understand Nott is your friend but he hardly has the experience needed for such an important acquirement. This is not a matter for armatures. And your marriage to Greengrass will push the Malfoy name into the Royal family tree.“

“He is not a friend, Father. But a business associate and brilliant at what he does. He has trained to take over his father’s firm and I know will study both magical and muggle law at the end of Hogwarts. Your confidence in my ability to turn the Fabergé from cologne and perfume makers back into the legendary jewelry line it once was known for is heartwarming. It really it is. I could care less about the royal tree, and even less for being a part of it. These are the terms father.”

“You have no leverage to demand such conditions boy.” Lucius said in a dangerous tone.

“I’m to sacrifice everything I want for this venture of yours. A summer spent doing what I want, for a summer doing what you want. If I’m to sacrifice then so are you. My willingness to give my future to continuing the family business.”

“You want to compromise then we will compromise. If we are not in control of Fabergé with a reputable jeweler by the time you are to leave for seventh year then the contract remains intact. If we are in control then I will delay the marriage to Greengrass.”

Draco knew by the angry set of his father’s jaw that he wouldn’t get more. What he would have was a bit of freedom and more time.

“And my other terms?”

“You will be in sole control of Fabergé, and may hire Theodore Nott as your lawyer.”

 

“I will write to Theo. This calls for a new contract.”

* * *

 

After a week spent at home, Hermione packed a small trunk with clothing and everything else she stashed in her bag, hugged her parents’ goodbye then left for Diagon Alley

The alley had changed very little since the last time she had visited with the exception of a couple of new additions. Lee, Fred, and George seemed to be busy following through with their plans to open a joke shop and it looked to be spectacular if the colorful construction were anything to judge by.

Hermione’s thoughts were halted by the odd building across the cobble stone street. Made of ancient looking stone two stories high, tall windows clouded with dirt. In the arch above the tallest window, a curious marking was carved in the stone.

“I see you have taken notice of the once house seat of the ancient Peverell’s, then eventually after the males died out, the Gaunt’s, and now after murdering his father and his sister’s disappearance, the heir died in Azkaban.”

Hermione smiled at the voice of her mentor. A witch of incredible age stood at her side, leaning heavily on her cane. Faded eyes locked on the house across from them.

“It seems to be… waiting. Why have I never noticed it before? I have been coming to Diagon Ally since I was eleven and I have never seen this incredible structure before.”

Madam Bagshot nodded slowly.

“An excellent question and an intriguing mystery. One you should look into sometime but not the one we are to be concerned with right this moment.” Madam Bagshot held out a leather envelope, light in weight. “Your first destination is inside, how you arrive there is up to you. Any expense will be paid with the card inside.”

 “I’m to go alone?” Hermione accepted the envelope.

Madam Bagshot’s many wrinkles pulled into a supportive smile. “Indeed you are. My bones have done their fair share of travel and now they prefer to stay at home. It was at their insistence that I found a worthy set of younger bones to carry on my work.”

Hermione felt a pang of apprehension, this was not what her parents had agreed to.

“Who is the subject?” she asked. If the person whose history she was exploring wasn’t interesting then she would simply have to decline as she had no wish to defy her parents.

Madam Bagshot gestured for Hermione to move closer with a twinkle in her eye.

“It involves… time travel. Ah yes I thought that might clear and hesitation in your pretty eyes. Everything you need to know to get started is inside as well as how to contact me.”

Hermione stepped back with wide eyes, she knew instantly that there was no way she could pass this up.

* * *

 

Hermione needed time to study the documents given to her so after a quick note sent to her parents letting them know that she would be heading to America, she boarded the next plane landing in the States.

She found it odd to be traveling alone, to a place she had never been to before yet she knew that if she wanted her dreams to come true then this was the first step.

Moments after leaving the airport and country behind, Hermione emptied the contents of the envelope into her lap.

There was the muggle credit card with her name on it and a single slip of paper that read:

_Contact: Lootah Jones_

_Location: Jones Travels, Oklahoma City, OK, USA_

_Subject: Time travel_

_Sensitive content should be recorded and disguised through muggle post._

The address Madam Bagshot was to a town she had never heard of, somewhere in Britain. Hermione pondered the information that Madam Bagshot lived in Godric’s Hollow, near Harry.

Hermione pulled a muggle pen and a notepad from her small bag and began to make notes.

It wasn’t long until her mind drifted to Draco and she began her first letter of the summer.

_Dear Draco,_

_I hope this letter finds you well._

_I decided to mail this to Stephen via muggle post and I’ve asked him to forward it on to you. I was unsure of your address and not quite sure how to go about sending post by owl from so far away._

_I myself, am on an airplane on the way to America. Quite the adventure I’ve found myself. I still know very little of what or who I’m actually researching but to say its not interesting would be vastly incorrect. Seems my benefactor has an interest in time travel. Having dabbled on the subject you can imagine my response._

_I had had my reservations when I first learned that I was to travel on my own but I could hardly ignore my curiosity._

_Do you have plans with your family to travel? How marvelous it would be if my travels were to intersect with yours. Preferably somewhere with warm weather and a beach. It is the summer after all._

_Have you ever been to America? This is a first for myself. I wonder how long I will be there. It would be fantastic if I were to have time to explore a bit. I suppose it will depend on the success of my first contact._

_Regardless, I shall write to you again soon._

_I do miss you._

_Yours,_

_Hermione_

* * *

 

After a fourteen hour flight which included changing planes in Georgia, a long exhausted sleep in the first hotel she could find, a newly refreshed Hermione followed directions to a small building with the sign _Jones Travels_ above the door.

The sun yellowed blinds were drawn and a crooked sign on the door said “Closed” in bold letters.

Hermione sighed and wiped the sweat from her forehead, silently lamenting the radiating summer heat that came with being in a warmer part of the hemisphere.

“I mustn’t allow a little closed sign stop me from finding Mr. Jones.” Hermione muttered and tried knocking on the glass window of the door. There was no response and Hermione didn’t really expect one.

“If you’re looking for Lootah, you won’t find him here.”

Hermione glanced toward the voice to find a young boy walking a little dog.

“Do you know where I can find him?” Hermione said a bit sharper than she meant. At the hesitation in the boy’s eyes she softened her eyes with an apologetic smile. “I’m terribly sorry. I’m not used to the heat. Can you please help me find Mr. Jones? It’s of the utmost importance that I speak with him.”

“He doesn’t come around much anymore since he got shot. He does spend lots of time near the bombing. No one knows why but Mom suspects that maybe someone he knew died there.”

“Would you be able to tell me how to find it?” Hermione asked quietly.

The boy shrugged. “Sure. Just around the corner. You won’t be able to miss it.”

“Thank you for your assistance. Enjoy your walk.” Hermione gave a small wave before following the boy’s instructions.

A quick look around and Hermione noticed the ominous clearing where obviously a great building had once been. Now that she had a life outside of the muggle world for most of the year, she was not kept currant of other world events.

There were very few pedestrians’ yet one lone man stood out to her. He was seated on a bench, elbows leant on his knees and he seemed to be staring into nothing. Hermione knew this must be her contact.

Taking a deep breath Hermione slowly approached.

“Mr. Jones?”

The man gave a small startled jump of his shoulders and he looked toward her, quickly assessing her.

“Yes?”

Hermione held out a hand in greeting. “My name is Hermione Granger. Do you mind if I sit with you?”

Lootah stood and accepted her hand in a quick shake. “Lootah Jones. Call me Lootah.” He waited as Hermione seated before taking his own seat. “Not from around here I gather. How may I help Ms. Granger? Afraid I don’t take people on tours of the Apache reservation anymore if that’s what you’re looking for.  A little young to be running around out there anyways.”

“Please, Hermione will do. Actually, while that would sound intriguing and I assure you I’m old enough… I’m here on a more sensitive subject.”

“Oh yea? What might that be?”

Hermione took another deep breath and caught Lootah’s eyes in a stare. “Time travel.” She noticed the quick way his eyes widened before he forced himself to relax and break her stare, covering the moment with a scoff.

“I’m sorry miss but I’m in the local travel business, or at least I was. Not time travel.”

Hermione hadn’t expected it to be that easy.

“If that’s the case then will you tell me the sudden decision to no longer offer tours anymore? And why do you sit in this particular spot so often the locals have theories about you?”

She was given silence as an answer and knew she had to give something back if she were to receive anything.

“Do you believe in magic Lootah?” She asked quietly.

He didn’t look her way but he leaned his elbows onto his knees again, his hands hanging limply.

“Yes Miss Hermione. I do believe in magic.”

Hermione released the breath she had been holding. “Will you tell me about time traveling?”

“What makes you think I time travel? What is a young witch out of Britain doing out here asking such questions?”

“I’m sorry for the questions Lootah. A bit of history about me then? I’m seventeen, perfectly of age where I’m from, and I dream of becoming the next great magical historian. I have been apprenticed to Madam Bagshot, the current greatest magical historian and someone has sponsored me to investigate time travel during my summer break from school. I do not know who my benefactor is. I was only given a credit card, your name, where to find you and that my subject was time travel.” Hermione paused to catch her breath.

Lootah chuckled quietly and looked towards her. “Well Hermione, future historian extraordinaire, I suppose I will fill in as many blanks as I can. Let me start with, no I am not a time traveler, but I think I know how I came to be an interest on the subject.”

Hermione listened as she quickly pulled out her note pad and pen, ready to take notes.

“I did travel to sometime in the nineteenth century.”

“But you said-“

“I said I’m not a time traveler… but I did time travel. Only I wasn’t alone and it was definitely an accident. The day the bomb went off just over there, a client of mine from the day before revealed herself to be a witch when she saved the lives of a few bystanders. I urged her to help more but it became too much for her. The horror of it all ya know? She was just a mite older than you.” Lootah’s dark gaze drifted. “I can still hear every scream. Anyways, she created this… this crack in time, only way I know how to describe it, and we went through to find Oklahoma City as a newborn.”

“What happened next?” Hermione urged.

Lootah laughed without humor. “A modern Native man in the past with a young white woman… it was interesting for a time, exploring untouched lands of my ancestors but eventually gunshots were had, one of them finding me. In order to save my life she brought me home. And then she left me here. I had a terrible fever and may have… raved a few times about what happened. It seems someone important listened, eventually finding its way to you.”

Hermione looked up from her notes.

“What is her name? Can you describe her for me? Do you know where she might have gone next? Did she ever explain how she was able to travel through time? The portal… what did it look like?”

“Slow down Hermione. I can describe her very well. She was from Britain, like yourself. Light brown eyes and short pale hair. Her name was-“

“Brea Fox.” Hermione finished for him with an excited expression.

Lootah looked at her in surprise. “You know her?”

“I met her briefly once, and in the timeline of things… I need a moment to put everything in order.” Hermione ripped a fresh blank page from her note pad and drew a line down the length. Marking a dot near the end she labeled it 1995.

“I met her in December 1994, then saw her again at the end of the summer in 1995 at the train station where she was last seen personally by me.”

“Spring 1996 is when we traveled to sometime in the nineteenth century.” Lootah added.

Hermione labeled two more marks on the time line before adding one for 1975.

“In the Hogwarts Reward’s Room she was the winner of the Dueling Tournament twice in a row. I’ve already questioned her partners and they had no memory of the interesting Brea Fox. When she appeared in 1994 her attire was that of the 1940s. She ever mentioned past travels?”

Lootah thought back on his brief time with Brea. “Most of our time together was spent trying to survive. The only family she spoke about were the Seven Sisters. She said they were her mother and aunts. She was talking about the Pleiades or as my legends call them the Lost Boys.”

“The constellation? Interesting. Do you believe her?”

Lootah’s eyes were serious. “Yes. She may have looked like an ordinary witch but as someone who knows her… has seen what she can do… she is someone special. There was an aged look in her eyes. Someone who knows the secrets of the world.”

“Where would she go next Lootah?”

“Why do you want to find her so bad? Actually who else would want to find her? Who’s your benefactor Hermione?”

“I don’t know. All I know is that Madam Bagshot received funding for me if I investigated. When I took this on, I didn’t know it would lead me to Brea Fox, though I can’t say I’m not ecstatic that it has. Ever since I met her, I’ve had this drive to find her. Not to bring her harm but to be her friend. I found a wanted notice in the Ministry of Magic. Someone wants her found. Someone who knew I wanted to find her.”

“What are you going to do if I tell you where I suspect she went next?”

“I’m going to continue to search for her but I’m going to protect her from whom ever is using me for their own means.” Hermione said with a determined tilt of her chin.

“You remind me an awful lot of her.” Lootah said with a dry chuckle. “Before we were attacked she said she wanted to discover the lost city of El Dorado."

Hermione’s eyes widened. “She’s already back. A while back my friend’s father had been told of an impressive delivery of Incan gold. She knew his father too as they were in the same photograph. And before that they mysteriously received a key to their vault-“ Hermione paused and searched through her bag. It became apparent that she had an undetectable extension charm placed on the small bag, yet her entire arm was shoved into its depths.

She pulled out a book. “I believe I do know her… or I did. I finally have a theory about our Brea Fox. I believe she is from a different timeline all together. A time where I knew her and she knew me. But something must be wrong with… it, it being time, so she travels to the time of James and Sirius. For what reason I do not know. I do believe she and Regulus were in love but he has no memory of her. At least none that he would speak of. I need to see him again… So she’s in 1976 then travels to the 1940s for something that alters time completely in such a way that she is no longer known by even those who love her.”

“How do you explain her pictures at your school?”

Hermione thought for a moment.

“The magic Hogwart’s was built with is incredible. It must have time memory… it must remember her. Do you know where she would go after searching for El Dorado?”

“She seems to have a fascination with mystery- another trait you seem to share.”

Hermione stood suddenly. “Then that’s where I search. I look through history to track her movements.”

Lootah didn’t join her in her excitement and held his place on the bench.

“Lootah… she isn’t going to come back here.”

The man gave Hermione a sad smile. “I don’t sit here like a love sick puppy, waiting for the love of his life to appear through an impossible crack in time. If that’s what you were thinking.”

“Then why?”

“I started out waiting for her. Not because of love but because she is alone and I promised to stay with her.”

 “When did that change?”

“I must have played that last night I was with her in my mind a thousand times and I realized that she must have felt guilty. That’s when I realized that, no, she would not come back. But if I continue to wait, maybe she would somehow know that she isn’t alone.”

“Do you want to come with me? I’m going back to Britain. I need to find out what happened in the 40s, speak with Regulus alone, I need to see Fred, George, and Lee as I suspect she had been donating funds for their business venture and then begin to search the history books. You could come with me…”

Lootah shook his head. “I always heard it was pretty chilly over there, and I don’t mind my share of air conditioning but I think I’ll stay here. But maybe I’ll stop waiting.”

Hermione nodded and held her hand out once more. “Thank you, beyond words, for sharing your story with me Lootah.”

He accepted her hand again. “If you find her… if you find her I’d like to know. Not to get in contact, I wouldn’t want to bring her more pain, but I’d just like to know that she isn’t alone.”

“You will be the first to know from me.”

“Brea may be as elusive as the Fox, but you… you are _bik'i dínísh'į́į́._ The spirit of a wolf, sent to guard and nurture. She will not make it easy to bring her home but if anyone can do this it would be you. _Hágooshį́į́_ , Hermione.”

His words brought strength to Hermione as she made arrangements to travel back to Britain. She felt closer to Brea and it was because of him. Something told her that she would never see him again, that he had merely been the tool of someone else in order to find Brea Fox. A tool that had served its greater purpose.

Would she follow in his footsteps? Was she simply another tool, a pawn to whomever searched for Brea Fox?

 


	51. Trail of Breadcrumbs

 

A knock on the front door startled Regulus from his task of reading a list of students signed up for his summer Quidditch practices. They did not often receive unannounced guests and Anthony was not due to arrive for dinner for another three hours.

“Altaria, I need you to pack four bottles of broom polish and… looks like we have twenty-six students lined up for lessons this summer so let’s go ahead and pack thirty brooms.” Regulus called over his shoulder to his daughter as he left the kitchen to open the front door.

“Er… Hermione Granger, if I remember correctly?” Regulus said in surprise.

Hermione nodded quickly.

“Yes sir. I apologize for intruding so abruptly. I looked your address up. May I come in?”

Regulus stepped back, leaving room for the young witch to make her way into the entry. “Welcome to number 12 Grimmauld Place.” He then led the way back toward the kitchen where Altaria was still organizing supplies. “Please forgive the mess. Miss. Granger, I’m not certain if you met my daughter at the Christmas party. Altaria this is Hermione, Hermione this is Altaria.”

The two exchanged polite greetings and Hermione accepted the offer of tea, looking around the kitchen and feeling at home.

“Mr. Black, I’ll get right to the reason for my visit. I’ve been hired to search for a witch. More specifically the witch I mentioned at the Christmas party.”

Regulus began to restlessly shuffle parchments. “I’m afraid nothing has changed since then Miss. Granger. I have thought over our past conversation…”

“I believe you. But I have new information and I felt I should share it with you… just in case any of it seems… familiar.”

Regulus stilled his hands and looked back toward Hermione.

“Go on then.”

She drew a deep breath and began a quick recount of most that she had learned.

“I’ve learned her name is Brea Fox. Her middle name I am still uncertain of. Before the end of this last school term I found myself exploring the Rewards Room. There was a photograph of you… you and Brea Fox, surrounded by James Potter, Remus Lupin, and your brother Sirius. This photograph was for the Dueling Championship of 1975, of which you and Brea won. Now I have my own theories about this but I just wanted to speak with you… to see if the knowledge brought up any memories or… feelings.” Hermione watched the older wizard carefully.

He was silent for a long pause, eyes focused on his daughter as she poured hot water from the kettle into cups, dipping tea leaves and then Hermione taking a sip with nothing added.

“Sometimes, when I was much younger I would have… moments. Moments that felt like dreams only- only I would be awake. And they made no sense. Times I would be filled with fear and hatred for no reason. Self-loathing. Emptiness. I would get them when looking at my brother. At my parents. Especially them. Then there were times where I would hear a girl’s laughter or the flash of white hair from the corner of my eye. I would remember conversations that never happened, felt... in odd ways for no reason. Certain I was losing my mind. Which isn’t uncommon with my family. Sometimes I think Sirius experienced something similar though we never confided in each other. Then soon, after I had graduated, I realized that all these… things, these feelings, they had stopped plaguing me.”

Hermione had lost her focus of him as another piece of the puzzle fell into place. She remembered the odd moments when something similar had happened to her.

“I thank you for your sharing this with me. It has been of tremendous help. Thank you, Altaria, for the tea. No, please, Mr. Black. I can show myself out.” Hermione left the old, yet neatly kept house quickly. She hadn’t learned anything particular to finding Brea but she was certain that Brea had erased herself from the minds of everyone who might have had a past with her.  

“Why… what was so terrible with the way things were that you had to do such a thing.” Hermione wondered aloud then apparated from the front step of the Black house to the front gates of Hogwarts.

“Didn’t expect that I would return here quite so soon…” She said and began to make her way toward the castle.

She found it quite strange to be on the grounds when they were so empty. The hour was growing very late but something told her that Headmaster Dumbledore would welcome her regardless.

* * *

 

After Hermione had been allowed in and welcomed into Dumbledore’s office, he offered dinner to be brought up.

“Thank you sir that would be lovely. I’m afraid that I have been traveling so much this past week that I have scarcely thought of eating.”

Dumbledore quickly called for a meal to be brought from the kitchens and waited with patience as Hermione ate her fill.

“Pardon me, Headmaster, this was not my intent for this visit. I had not realized that I was so… hungry.” Hermione apologized once she finished.

“Think nothing of it Miss Granger. Now I understand Madam Bagshot has sent you on a most important task.”

“Yes sir… I was not aware you would know of the reason of my visit.”

“Make no mistake, I only know what Madam Bagshot has offered me. A quick note letting me know that you were investigating something which she was not at liberty to speak of and it was possible you would find your way here for research purposes.”

“Madam Bagshot is correct, my investigation has led me here. Sir… does the name Brea Fox mean anything to you?”

There came to be a twinkle in the old wizard’s eyes as he watched her over the rim of his half-moon glasses.

“No, the name Brea Fox does not hold particular meaning to me... But the name Brea Rusé holds very dear meaning to me.”

Hermione gave a small smile. It seemed Brea was fond of using different languages for her name.

“Why is she important to you? Who wants me to find her?”

“I cannot say for certain, for I only harbor my own secret suspicions. And these secrets of hers… she must be the one to reveal them for their weight I know must be heavy upon her. It would be terribly unfair for me to divulge what I merely suspect.”

Hermione’s shoulders fell a fraction, knowing she had yet another dead end. She decided to ask about something else.

“What do you know about the Seven Sisters?”

“Ah, the mythical Dove Sisters. Chased across the night sky by Orion. Very fond they are of meddling in affairs of gods and men.”

“Do you know anyone who might… be their descendant?”

Dumbledore pondered Hermione’s question. “I have had my wonderings but have not confirmed such relations. Beings born in the blood of gods and goddess are legendary in their power and their need to control it.”

“I suspect whoever is using me to search for Brea Fox, is connected to her, and the Pleiades are the only lead I have found as of yet.”

Dumbledore nodded with a smile. “Do not give up Miss Granger for I feel you are very close. When you find the answers to your mystery… there must be a fascinating story in all of this, one I would very much like to know if I may. Now I would offer you a place to sleep for the night and in the morning you may use the library for further research if you must.”

Hermione stood and moved toward the office door. “Thank you for the assistance Headmaster. However I don’t feel that I will find what I need in this particular library. I’m going to visit a library with a bit more of the world in it, not just the wizarding.”

“As you wish Miss Granger. Hogwarts will remain at your service should you require it.”

* * *

 

Hermione was physically exhausted yet her mind still raced. She felt so close to all the answers and became impatient for them. This led to the decision to forego a stay at the Leaky Cauldron and instead knock on the back door to the WWW.

From beyond the door she could hear the startling sound of a crash and then the mixture of curse and laughter before the door was opened with a harsh swing. One of the twins stood with his eyes squeezed closed and rubbing a hand on the back of his head.

Beyond him stood his double and Angelina Johnson, both holding onto each other in laughter.

“Granger? Bloody hell, don’t you know the time?”

Hermione gave a tight smile.

“I apologize… Weasley. This couldn’t wait.”

“George. Come in, ignore Fred and Ange. They find my pain amusing to the point of wetting themselves.”

This riled a smile out of her as George closed the door.

“It’s good to see you all. Do you have a moment to answer a question or two?”

Fred gestured for her to follow him.

“Come along, this way. Do you mind if we talk and work? Busy testing a few products.”

Hermione’s brows lifted in surprise.

“Working? This late?”

George flicked her ear.

“You mean like you? Shocking!”

“I see your point…” Hermione said begrudgingly.

She was led to a terribly disorganized room, full of potions brewing, ingredients in random order, drawings and books stacked on any surface.

“Lovely smell.” Hermione said with a wrinkle to her nose.

“Job hazard. What’s on your busy brain so late?” George asked with a grin.

“I was hoping you kept an accurate book of accounts… but I’m beginning to think I might be wrong.”

“Why Hermione Granger! We’re offended by your lack of faith in our adult responsibility. Of course we keep an accurate book of accounts!”

Hermione’s face lit up in excitement.

“Errr Fred… where do we keep the book of accounts?”

George looked at Fred and Fred looked at George.

“If I remember correctly, and I always do…. It should be right over here under this cauldron.” Fred dug out the book. “Yep here it is. Feel free to snoop around in it just don’t rob us. You’re not a robber are you?  A highway lady of sorts?”

“Oh! I want to join your band of highway robbery Hermione!” George pipped in then yelped when Angelina gave the back of his head a swat.

“I think not Weasley! Hermione can handle highway robbery without the likes of you getting in the way.”

“Thank you Angelina.” Hermione rolled her eyes and accepted the book. She opened the book and her eyes narrowed in confusion. The twins and Angelina watched as she quickly moved through the pages before she closed the book with a huff and dropped back in Fred’s hands.

“It’s empty. Honestly Fred!”

Fred shook his head in confusion. “Hmmm. Oh! This must be a sketch book. The account ledger then must be over on Lee’s desk.”

Hermione felt a headache coming which she hadn’t felt since fifth year. Her last year at Hogwarts with the twins now that she thought about it.

“Please tell me. You actually use it…”

Fred looked at George and George looked at Fred.

“I couldn’t tell you the first entry…” Fred muttered.

“I couldn’t tell you the color of the cover…” George pipped in.

“Just let me see it and I’ll do what I can.” Hermione said with a sigh.

“You never mentioned why you need to dig through their accounts. “Angelina said.

“Right of course. As you might know, I aspire to become a historian. Madam Bagshot, the author of _Hogwarts: A History_ has enlisted my services and I’m researching someone. Someone I believe has been donating money for your business endeavor.”

“Hey remember Fred? We had several anonymous investments.”

“Precisely George. And I remembered a few details and wondered if the investments were continuing.”

George shrugged while Fred dug around Lee’s desk for the appropriate book.

“Here we are!”

Hermione eagerly began to search through the book, which to her relief seemed to be kept in precise detailed transactions.

“Thank Merlin for Lee!” Hermione’s eyes worked quickly through the ledger before digging a map of the globe from her bag. There were investments from many different currencies, US dollars, Peruvian sol, a second investment from the states, Japanese yen, and several Chinese yuan investments, lira from Turkey and rouble from Russia. The investment from Russia was the most recent, converted first to the British pound then on to galleon, only being processed in the past week.

“Come one Lee…” Hermione whispered. “Russia was a massive area… I need somewhere specific.” While the others watched in curiosity and amusement she began to look through papers that had been stacked with the ledgers. “Surely Gringott’s would send a statement, for how else would he know about the deposit… Beautiful! Fred, George, when you next see Lee… please give him a kiss on the cheek from me.” In her hands Hermione had the last known location of Brea Fox. Moscow Russia, three days ago.

“Sure thing Granger, but… why?” Fred asked.

Hermione quickly folded her map before rushing for the door.

“No time to explain. I have a plane to catch!”

* * *

 

There was very little time for Draco and Theo to make plans to look into the disappearance of Theo’s cousin. The moment the two young wizards signed contracts and exchanged handshakes with Lucius they left for the Nott manor to speak with Theo’s grandmother.

“Grandmother. You look beautiful.” Theo said with the rare smile in his voice.

Draco had met Theo’s grandmother- great grandmother to be more precise, on more than one occasion. She fit the elderly, grandmotherly, witch perfectly, with her snow white hair, puff around the edge of an elaborate pointed hat, seated in an elaborately decorated drawing room.

“Ah, Theodore my dear boy, you do this old witch a delight.”

Draco hid a smirk as she held her hands wide and Theo obliged her by bending low to receive her peck on the cheek.

“And who’s this you’ve brought with you? Ah appears to be a Malfoy, well come on then.”

Draco was startled and hesitated when Grandmother Nott raised her hands toward him, and when Theo gave him a hard look and a tiny nod of his head, Draco moved forward to oblige her, receiving a matching peck on his cheek.

Draco didn’t miss the smug gleam in Theo’s eyes and answered with a glare of his own.

“Sit, sit. Now how may I entertain two such strapping lads as yourselves?”

Theo gestured for Draco to begin to which he shifted and cleared his throat.

“It has come to my attention recently that I had been betrothed at birth, to your great granddaughter, though her name is not in the contract, it was signed by your daughter, upon the announcement of her marriage to Evan Rosier.”

Grandmother Nott smiled sadly, her gaze drifted off into space.

“Ah yes my beautiful Helen. I always knew all this marriage contract nonsense was a terrible mistake. Having no say in your own future… there’s no need for such things anymore but Theo’s great grandfather wouldn’t hear of any other way.”

Draco sighed inwardly.

“He had a brilliant plan, to unite the Nott’s- still relatively new to Britain you see- with the Prince, Rosier, and then the Malfoy family which would connect us with the Blacks. Theo’s uncle, my youngest son married a Prince, they gave me Helen. When Helen was very young my son passed away. Her mother, free of obligations left Helen with us and remarried. I never heard from her again. In my grief I was able to prevent my husband from contracting Helen to the Rosiers. Eventually he had his way and forced Helen to not only to sign a contract with Rosier but to sign her first born daughter with… with the first born son of the Malfoy line.”

Her eyes filled with tears.

“Helen was so distraught and heartbroken. It wasn’t but a week later that Helen disappeared.”

Draco sat in stunned silence, processing the old woman’s tale.

“Grandmother… do you have any photo of your daughter?”

She shook her head slowly.

“Her grandfather took it as abandonment and erased her. She had warm brown hair and lovely dark eyes, much like your own Theodore… What do you hope to gain by questioning me about something so painful?”

Draco met her gaze.

“I’ve been contracted to Astoria Greengrass. A betrothal I must find a way out. Astoria will do as her family wishes leaving no hope of a mutual break. If I can find your great granddaughter, if your granddaughter ever even had a daughter that is- that will void the new contract and then all she must do is agree to a clean dissolve of the old betrothal. By then I will be of age and my family will no longer be able to force my hand.”

She nodded gently.

“A grand scheme. One I hope you succeed in. The only help I can offer you… you will not find Helen in the wizarding world, you will need to search among the muggles for her.”

Draco and Theo exchanged curious looks.

“While most of the family still cared for her, she always felt outside of the family. It took a great deal of persuasion of the Rosier family to agree to the marriage. You see my Helen, though pureblooded, was not born with magic.  ”

* * *

 

 

One week later

Draco sighed in boredom, his gaze drifting to the tall double window in his new office. Nearly a week in Russia and everything regarding his new project was set. It had been incredibly simple to acquire the license to noble jewelry line of Fabergé.

He had the license secure, the cost was exorbitant and grand, yet the profit would be well worth it.  Theo was in the middle of seeking a qualified Master Jeweler for him to interview, the workshop and store were located on the floor below his office, just waiting to be put to work.

Soon after his arrival he had sent a letter to Hermione informing of where he was spending his summer, and a week later it remained unanswered. He told himself that this time it was because she was busy with her own summer work and not purposefully ignoring him unlike the summer before.

With a sigh Draco stood from his chair and slipped on his black robe, determined to walk through St. Petersburg and enjoy the sights.

He hadn’t gotten far when he stopped with sudden surprise.

There on the sidewalk across the street stood a familiar mane of wild brown hair.

Draco couldn’t help the smile of delight that spread across his face and with a quick jog he crossed the street, staying just out of her view. Silently he crept behind her and slipped his hands over her eyes and quickly whispered in her ear.

“This summer just got interesting.”

Hermione whirled around with surprise.

“Draco! I didn’t expect to find you in St Petersburg.”

Draco shrugged and examined her appearance. Muggle jeans with sensible shoes and shirt, a bag slung over her shoulder and map clutched in her hand.

“I’m here on business. Yourself? You look every bit a traveler.”

Hermione tucked a chunk of loose hair behind her hair and squinted her eyes to look in the distance.

“I am here on business as well. You’re not going to believe what I’ve stumbled onto Draco.”

She gave a quick glance around and tugged on the sleeve of Draco’s robe, urging him to walk with her.

Speaking lowly she quickly gave a recount of the events leading to her arrival in Russia.

“Do you believe you’ll truly find this Brea Fox… here? How? St Petersburg is a very big place. And I thought the last place she had been confirmed at was Moscow.”

“That’s why I’m going to spend some time in the Hermitage. She seems to be drawn to mysteries so some time in a museum might shed some light on where- or when she might be… Moscow was now nearly two weeks ago.” Hermione look up at him. “Would you like to join me?” There was a slight tremor in her voice.

“I’ve been dreadfully bored today. A stroll around a museum would be just the thing.” He popped his elbow out toward her which she took with a pleased look.

Draco delighted in the way Hermione would study each exhibit thoroughly, her bright brown eyes scanning for the smallest detail and writing anything of note down in a journal she pulled from her bag.

They had been looking at a portrait of the last Imperial family, Draco musing to himself about the odd connection him and Hermione had through them and their jeweled eggs. Draco gave a slight smile to the portrait and moved toward the next when Hermione stopped him with a hand.

“I know where she would go next. Every little girl knows of the disappearance and massacre of the Imperial family. It would be irresistible for her.”

“Alright, I’ll accept that it’s a tempting adventure, but when and where would she go?”

Hermione thought for a moment.

“I’m not certain, I’ll need to research the time period. Would you like to join me in the library?”

“With pleasure.”

It wasn’t long before Hermione had a list of possible locations and times in which Brea would more than likely travel too in order to find the family before their imprisonment.

Hermione did not truly believe she would stumble across Brea at any of these locations but she felt she had to try.

When Hermione dragged Draco into a Russian taxi, she had them delivered to a grand church.

Draco stared with wide eyes Byzantine style building of white and gold.

“Where is this?”

Hermine had her eyes locked on the church as well.

“This is the Church of All Saints. It’s been built on the ground where the Imperial family were murdered. The original house was demolished. Just recently though they built a church in its stead.”

Draco looked to the witch at his side.

“Why here?”

Hermine began to walk toward the church, her gaze sweeping up every person and every detail.

“I narrowed the possibilities to Catherine Park, where members of the Romanov family would visit soldiers in the war, the Peterhof Palace, or here. The place where they were murdered. Brea knows without a doubt the date and place where the massacre will take place. If she were to rescue them then this would be the most logical way to attempt it.” She paused at the doors. “Keep a careful watch for anyone acting suspicious, alright?”

Draco nodded silently, cutting his gaze toward the shadows then towards the lowering sun with a pang of hunger.

“Hermione… just how long are we going to wait here?”

She rolled her eyes.

“Is it nearly your bed time Malfoy? If you wish to leave then I’m sure the church has a way to call for a cabbie.”

“Granger, I’m a wizard. I don’t need to rely on muggle transportation. And neither do you or did you forget you’re in fact a witch? At least that’s the rumor.”

Hermione whirled and stomped back to confront his glare.

“It’s a skill of survival Malfoy. Being able to find a means without magic. What is a wizard without a wand in which to cast magic? No more than a muggle. Unless I suppose you’re very skilled at wandless magic?”

Draco scoffed and drew breath to defend himself when he noticed how thin Hermione’s face had gotten since he last seen her. While her eyes were flashing with anger they were sunken and had dark circles around them. Anger boiled inside him.

“When’s the last time you ate… or slept?”

Hermione clenched her jaw stubbornly.

“Merlin, Granger, you have to- of all the idiotic-“

“Shhhh!” Hermione hissed and quickly pressed a hand to Draco’s mouth, silencing his heated rant.

After a moment he followed her gaze to a point behind him. A cloaked figure with a quick stride slipped into the tree line across the road.

Draco jerked his mouth from Hermione’s hand.

“Granger don’t-“

The rest was lost as Hermione began to sprint away. Draco clenched his hands as she wove through vehicles, several emitting obnoxiously loud noises. When she made it safely to the other side he, more cautiously, jogged across to join her.

“We need to have a serious talk about your recklessness.”

“Not now Malfoy. I think she went this way.”

He grabbed her wrist, halting her movement.

“One, I saw her go toward the center which is in this direction. Two, it may not even be her.”

Hermione pulled herself free and ignored Draco, jogging away quickly.

Draco groaned and tipped his head back, glaring at the darkening sky.

“I shouldn’t be here. I should be back at the office, ensuring it’s a success and earning my right to a delay to this blasted marriage. But no, no, no… here I am, chasing Granger after some shady character who may or may not be a time traveler.”

After another brief sigh, Draco followed Hermione.

He found her shielding herself behind a tree and peering around into the small clearing. He was irritated that he had been wrong.

The dark blue cloak hid the appearance of the person but if Draco were to judge by the height, they were spying on a female. A female who looked to be studying paper held in her hands for a long moment.

He sensed the tension in Hermione when the figure put away the papers in the folds of her cloak and stood still…. Deathly still.

Then to his astonishment the open air before her began to shift… shaking. Cracking. A split in space, the size was smaller than a typical door. Through it Draco could see a setting sun and a wide clearing instead of trees.

And the cloaked woman stepped through. The moment she did, Hermione ran for her with Draco on her heels. They didn’t stop until they were through the opening, with Brea quickly walking away, the doorway closing.

“Don’t do this Brea!” Hermione cried out.

The figure briefly froze before whirling to face them. Draco instinctively drew his wand when faced with the shock and anger on the witches face.

Quickly Brea swept the hood from her head. She had the same white hair and bright amber eyes from his brief encounter with her in fourth year.

“How did you…” Her eyes moved between Hermione and Draco. Somehow she figured out the answer to her own question. “Of course. I should have known this would happen eventually. You… you shouldn’t be here.” She said quietly. “Give me a moment and I’ll send you back.”

Hermione took a step toward her, and Draco kept his wand hand steady.

“So you know who we are.” Hermione wasn’t asking a question but confirming.

The anger in Brea’s eyes softened with a smile.

“I know who you are.”

“How do you know us? Why did you go back? What did you change? What was so terrible about the way thing were? Why do you still try to change the past? What else have you chan-“

Draco gave a discrete tug on the sleeve of Hermione’s shirt with his free hand.

“Those are all excellent questions Hermione. And you deserve the answers. But now is not the time.”

Brea started to turn away.

“You have to stop! You can’t save them Brea. Their fate is already sealed.”

Brea turned back toward them. Her gaze was serious and sad as she walked to them. Without taking her eyes from Hermione’s she lifted her left arm, slowly rolled the sleeve, and then did the same to Draco, ignoring his wand still in hand. The three of them stared at the unblemished skin as Brea ran a finger down each of their forearms.

“One’s fate is never certain. It can be rewritten…and I have the power to do it. And this atrocity… not all is as it seems with how history remembers it.”

Hermione’s memory flashed to her conversation with Headmaster Dumbledore but before she could make anything of it there were shouts in the distance.

“Shit.” Brea muttered as she drew her wand. “The two of you need to stay here. If anyone finds you… well use your instincts.”

Draco watched as Brea sprinted off.

“We’re not waiting here like she ordered, are we?” He asked with a tone of resignation.

“Naturally not.”

* * *

 

Brea knew she was too late. The feeling of panic and anger. The sight of the bodies of the servants lying lifeless. The stench of gunpowder and blood. It all made her feel sick.

‘I can’t be more than a minute or two behind Yakov.’ She thought with a flicker of hope. From memorizing the layout of the house prints, Brea made her way for the basement, Hermione and Draco following at a distance.

The two made every attempt to keep their eyes from the scenes of death, and Hermione fought to keep her emotions in check.

Soon there was the sound of several gunshots and urgency took over.

Draco pulled Hermione behind him as they stumbled into the doorway behind Brea, Hermione covering her mouth with a small cry and Draco struggling to keep his wand raised.

Brea stood between a young woman who was shielding a boy and many uniformed men, one with a thick mustache, his rifle raised to his shoulder while her wand was raised and steady. All around them people were dead or dying, members of the Imperial family and several police.

The man Hermione believed to be Yokav, the leader of the massacre, was shouting in Russian.

“He’s- he’s demanding that she lower her weapon.” Draco whispered to Hermione.

“Hermione, Draco. I’m sorry. I- I promise I’ll come back for you.”

Hermione barely registered Brea’s words before a flash of red light slammed into Yokav then she dispparated out of the basement. It took a moment for them to realize that the last two surviving members were gone as well.

“Hermione we have to get out of here… now!”

Hermione had no idea how long they ran nor where they were running to. All she knew was that they had left behind a house full of tragic chaos, perhaps being pursued by the secret police. And that with Brea now missing, she and Draco were trapped in 1918 Russia.

 


	52. Dimitri and Maya

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *New rating - From T to M because sexy reasons*

 

_Travel Log_

_Quintilis XVII 7424_

_I had a well needed lesson in just how quickly weeks of preparation could disintegrate._

_What began as a simple journey of exploration quickly spiraled out of control._

_It had to be done, though I failed as much as I succeeded. I would have liked to have spared all of their lives but the girl… she was special. It will take time to ensure their safety, and with the young Prince’s condition, caution is paramount._

_The Duchess seems to be in awe of my abilities as a witch, unaware of her own. Before my plans had fallen apart, I had hoped to spend time with her, to teach her. Now with the unexpected appearance of- well- I must return them home as soon as possible._

_I ought to have known he would discover a way to find me._

_I’ll deal with that once the children are safe._

_Death has ignored my existence before but now it will no longer be able to do so. The Fates will want my head for this and they will send Death for me._

Brea closed her journal with a sigh and watched the young woman and her brother sleep. She had brought them to a secluded valley she had scoped out before her mission. Her trusty tent had been waiting.

The children had willingly taken the calming draught, after all they had just experienced the massacre of all they loved, narrowly escaping themselves. To Brea’s relief Alexei hadn’t been injured.

Chewing her lip she pondered her next move. She needed to find the wand, remove it from power and history had led her to here.

Brea watched as Anastasia flinched in her sleep, a whimper escaping

* * *

 

 

Unwanted marriages brought panic, displeasing his mother brought panic, Hermione Granger not returning his letters and avoiding him for no apparent reason then pretending to be in a relationship with his cousin, brought panic.

But nothing compared to being stranded in a civil war torn country, in a barbaric time period, the secret police hunting them, with no money, no family, and nowhere to run. Draco could admit that the panic was nearly choking him.

“She will be back. She has to come back. She promised. All we have to do is stay alive until then. Should be simple enough. We have our wands, I studied plenty of survival guides. We need to stay off the streets. If we can find some- some canvas then I can fashion a tent and with wards we should stay hidden and safe. We should find our way back to the clearing where we first came to 1816 at.”

Draco, despite the hell he was certain they had fallen into, smiled slightly.

At least he had Hermione.

He listened and watched as she paced in the darkness, her ideas and planning were a sight well worth it.

“Once we’ve established somewhere safe then we’ll need food and clothing. You might pass but I’ll stand out. Fortunately you speak Russian so there shouldn’t be any problem with you finding a position in town to earn money.”

At that Draco sat up straighter, his smile falling.

“Stop. I already have a job. One I need to get back to immediately. We need to be focused on finding your damned time traveler so that I can get back to it before father finds out and-“

Draco cut himself off before he said more than he meant to.

Hermione sighed and knelt down on the ground near where he sat.

“I understand your urgency-“

His grey eyes flashed in the moonlight.

“No Granger I don’t think you do. Today was supposed to be a boring day where I fulfilled my father’s boring wishes, then to my delight I happen across you and we were to have a boring stroll through the museum. Which turned into a quick jot to the library which then somehow turned into a drive in a muggle death trap, across bloody Russia where we followed a mad woman into a warzone-“ Draco cut off when Hermione bowed her head, her hair obscuring her face.

“I’m sorry Draco. I knew I shouldn’t have dragged you into this, and if I’m honest, I wasn’t expecting for any of this to happen. I just wanted to find her.”

Draco sighed and felt a pang of guilt at the tremor in her voice. After a moment’s hesitation he reached out and lifted her chin until she met his gaze again.

“We still need to discuss your penchant for rash Gryffindor-like decisions. I have to admit Granger… if I were to be stranded in 1816 with anyone I’d want it to be you.”

Hermione felt her cheeks heat and she gave a shy smile.

“I wonder what everyone else is doing for their summer…”

Draco gave a small laugh.

“Come on, let us find you that canvas you were speaking about and see if we can’t get some sleep.”

* * *

 

 “It’s been three days Draco.” Hermione said quietly. She stood at the opening of their tent, watching as the sun sang below the trees. Worry settled in her stomach like a weight and hunger ate at her.

Draco approached from the trees, a burlap sack held tightly in his hand.

“I found work. My Russian isn’t perfect but it did well enough for me to begin working at a newspaper. Their damn errand boy.”

Hermione smiled at the way he stuck out his bottom lip slightly.

“You did well. Come, let’s eat and then we can resume my language lessons. Once you feel I know enough then I’ll seek out employment as well. There must be something I could do around here…”

Draco stepped past Hermione and into the warmth of their temporary home, Hermione following behind and securing the entry way.

Hermione’s extension charms as well as both their efforts in transfiguration had given them everything they required outside of food.

“Your feast tonight Madam Granger will be of…” Draco paused for dramatic effect as he reached inside the sack he carried whisking out a loaf of bread. “And…. I really don’t wish to touch the other thing any more than I have to so…” He held the sack out to Hermione.

Her dark eyed stare flicked between Draco and the lumpy sack.

“Is it dead?”

Draco simply answered with a grimace.

“Draco! What did you- did you murder some helpless creature?”

He sputtered as Hermione stormed passed him toward the transfigured wood burning stove.

“Of course not! I was able to talk my way into an advance on my weekly sum- which let me tell you is rubbish- and I bought a chicken from the butcher. It was already dead!”

“What are we supposed to do with a dead chicken?”

Draco stared at her with an open mouth.

“Well… I thought you could… cook it?” He said with uncertainty.

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and held her hand out for the sack. Holding her breath she gingerly reached inside and nearly screamed when the stiff clawed foot brushed the back of her hand.

Holding back the urge to vomit she lightly pulled the dead chicken from the sack and promptly gagged, dropping the chicken on the small table at her side.

“Draco it still has feathers! And a head and feet and oh my-“

“You alright there Granger? Can you cook it?”

Hermione flashed a glare toward him.

“I can bake a cake, I can scramble an egg, I can brew a cup of tea. But this-“ she jerked a hand toward the chicken. “This has to be plucked, eviscerated, and then it hast to be cooked fully or else we risk salmonella. I suppose I could boil it.” She set her hands to her hips and gave a dramatic sigh.

“You can’t cook?”

“I used to watch my mom and dad. I picked up on the simple things, but now I have so much going on between school and well everything that I never did more than learn to bake a potato. I suppose you never learned?”

“I’d asked mother once, how to make tea and my father nearly wet himself. ‘ _Malfoy’s do not do such common tasks Draco. Now stand straight and count to five hundred in German.’_ “

Hermione huffed at his impression of his father.

“My mother used to ask if I wanted to learn more complex recipes but I always had something more important to do. Like read Argentinean healing techniques of common colds. Something I regret now.” She scrunched her nose and attempted to pull a feather out. “It’s really in there…”

“I never took you for squeamish. I mean- we mess with loads of disgusting ingredients in potions.”

“Yes well it’s easier to desensitize myself against chopping up a frog’s tongue than it is to do whatever it is I’m trying to do now.”

“Let’s just think of this as a potions lesson then. Then reward will be a satisfied stomach and more Russian lessons.”

“Nice idea Malfoy. How about I practice counting while we pluck the feathers.”

“We?”

  Hermione smiled slyly and stood close to Draco, reaching up to straighten the fold of his collar.

“The quicker this chicken is prepared, the quicker we get to eat it and then its study time. Something I’m greatly looking forward to. Now then why don’t we get to work?”

It wasn’t until later, much later, once their meal had been thoroughly prepped, cooked, consumed, and cleaned up, Draco sat beside Hermione on their transfigured sofa, reading the newspaper he had brought for Hermione to practice learning with.

He should have been amazed with how quickly she picked up the new language but he already knew she was brilliant. It was while she studied a word with intensity, and the light that spread across her face when she figured it out, that Draco began to feel a sense of happiness at their circumstances.

The warmth of her so near him, the scent of her hair drawing him in.

Slowly he pulled the paper from her hands, thrilling in the irritation in her eyes.

“Draco, I wasn’t finished-“

Her words cut off when he closed the distance between them, a hand moving to her shoulder sliding up to tangle in her hair. Her wide brown eyes locked with his stormy grey. She read the look in them clearly, breath catching on a sigh of anticipation.

Draco was transfixed by the way she nervously ran her tongue across her lips, leaving them slightly parted.

“It just occurred to me that I’m trapped in 1916 Russia with a beautiful woman whom I’ve been in love with since the moment I first saw her in first year. After muddling any chance I had of winning her affection, somehow she forgave me. And I’ve kind of been in this secret relationship with her, yet never been properly alone with her. Never properly snogged her.” Draco said in a seductive voice.

Hermione swallowed.

“What are you saying Draco?”

He closed his eyes and smiled.

“Have I ever told you that I love it when you say my name? My heart skips.”

Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Hermione.”

She couldn’t help catching her breath at the way he said her name.

“All right fine. I’ll give you that.”

His lips lifted in a smirk but it quickly melted away.

“Draco- oh don’t make that face- did you mean to say that?”

Leaning forward Draco placed his lips against her neck. The sound of her gasp had him clenching his fingers in her hair.

“Say what?”

Hermione closed her eyes, welcoming the new sensations running through her body.

“That you loved me…”

To her disappointment his lips stilled their work and he pulled away enough to meet her gaze with his heavy lidded stare.

“I freely admit to it. I have loved you since the first day I set eyes on you.”

Hermione’s heart fluttered with happiness.

“I freely admit as well… I love you Draco Malfoy.”

He answered with a low groan and pulled her into his embrace, his lips meeting hers, answering her urgency with his own. The kiss was long and full of inexperienced hands exploring, short moments of gasping breath, and low moans.

Hermione wasn’t sure when it happened but at one point she straddled his lap, tilting his head back while she controlled the pace. Her hands gripped his shoulders while his held the back of her thighs.

“This is why we shouldn’t be stranded together…” Hermione whispered when Draco moved his lips back to the side of her neck.

“I quite agree. I’ve waited six years to do this. To finally make you mine.”

Hermione pulled back and stared at him.

“Well maybe not six… more like five.”

Hermione slipped off his lap and ran her hands over her hair, taking deep calming breaths.

“We were not about to do what you think we were Malfoy.”

Draco looked at her in mild confusion.

“We’re both adults with healthy feelings for each other. Why wouldn’t we?”

Hermione stared at him in shock.

“Too many reasons to count! One, our relationship is a secret and therefore could hardly be considered healthy. Two, look around you! We are living in a tent in 1916! Hardly the place I imagined my first time would be. Three, do you happen to have any birth control on you? Because I am certainly do not want a child!”

Draco calmly stood and grasped her hands in his.

“One, it will only be secret until we graduate, perhaps sooner. Two, so where exactly did you imagine? I can tell you I have a very vivid imagination and have several places in mind. We have nothing but time it seems. Three… you’re right. And I can see that you’re not ready.”

Hermione’s frustration melted away at the sincere look in his eyes and pulled a hand from his to brush his pale hair from his eyes.

“Thank you Draco.”

His eyes crinkled with his smile.

“What did I say about saying my name?” He growled playfully before picking her up around her waist, her legs instinctively hugging his hips while she laughed.

* * *

 

Time began to pass in a blur of summer for the two stranded time travelers. Draco spent his days running errands for the Yekaterinburg based newspaper, avoiding the local citizens, and constantly searching the shadows for Brea Fox or the will one day be known as Cheka- which ever found them first.

Hermione had quickly picked up the language, and when Draco felt she did well enough, a new early twentieth century frock, she took a position at an apothecary. With her knowledge of herbs and medicinal uses, she was a welcome addition.

Their evenings were spent learning to cook whatever simple meal could be found, sharing stories and thoughts they wished they had had the courage to share long before.

For the sake of appearances about the town, Draco had suggestion they tell anyone who asked that they were married.

Though she knew it was the most logical course, Hermione had been resistant to the lie. By the end of the argument she had allowed reason to overcome stubbornness. Thus they became Dmitry and Maya Malinov.

No one really questioned their appearance, everyone had their own worries and secrets in such a dangerous time.

“How long have we been here Draco?” Hermione asked as they walked arm in arm toward their temporary home at the end of a day of working. They spoke in quiet Russian so as to keep Hermione’s accent developing.

“It’s mid-August. A month? Gods damn it. Do you think time passes the same at home?”

Hermione thought for a moment. “It was late June and we arrived in the middle of July. It seems that time is fluid for Brea. The present isn’t tied to the same point in the past. Which would make sense as time is a human construct, used to follow migration patterns and plant crops.”

“Which means she should be able to take us home to our natural time.” The relief in his voice was obvious. One of his fears that his father would notice his disappearance was laid to a tentative rest.

“And no one would know that we were actually older… so long as she returns in the very near future. I really do not entertain the idea of staying here for much longer.”

Draco pulled his arm from hers and slung it around her shoulders.

“Oh I don’t know Granger. The people here have left us well enough alone so far and look at them running about. One of the editors mentioned there was a small festival this evening, a way to lift everyone’s spirits before the harvest season. Shall we?”

Hermione slipped a hand into a pocket in the folds of her skirt. A small vial rested there, tempting her. She quickly glanced at Draco, the happiness of his smile brought about her own.

“We shall.”

They joined a crowd of bystanders, watching as several people brought out instruments, food, and decorations. Draco was recruited by the men to help move tables from nearby homes, and Hermione watched with a smile as he handed her his coat and walked away, rolling his sleeves to his elbows.

She didn’t get to enjoy watching Draco do manual labor for more than a moment before a group of women had urged her to help set out the food. Hermione smiled and couldn’t stop her blush when one of the women told her she had a strapping husband, one sure to give her lots of children.

Hermione knew she couldn’t tell them that she wasn’t married and that she had no plans to have children. Maybe in the far future, perhaps not ever. She mulled over her future with Draco as she worked to pass out the dishes.

She loved him. There was no doubt that she did but a future with Draco… he had the sort of future that meant long hours in the office, Sunday dinners at the in-laws, inviting friends to evening drinks, and children. Hermione knew that wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted to travel, explore, write, and to teach.

“What has you with such a serious expression?” Draco said from her side while she set a pile of clean napkins on the table.

Masking her distress she turned to him with a smile.

“Nothing, just concentrating on the important task of passing out food.”

Nearby sounds of the band starting to play moved through the evening air. Lanterns were lit, dogs ran and barked with the children, and Draco pulled her to the clearing near the band, where most were already talking and dancing.  

“Time to dance… Maya.”

Hermione joined him in quickly learning the steps to the dance, enjoying the pleasing melody and the much needed exercise.

Several dances later a soothing song signaled the change to a slower pace and Hermione wrapped her arms around Draco’s shoulders, leaning close to his chest. She could feel the steady beat of his heart, his warmth, his scent no longer dominated by buttered scones but now apples and ink.

The thought of leaving him behind to follow her dreams tore at her. She wanted this, wanted him. Fisting her hands in the back of his hair and shirt she clenched her jaw.

“You’ve been awfully quiet. Care to share?”

Hermione pulled back slightly, causing him to stop his movements. The lamplight glittered in his eyes, pale hair peeking under his bowler. It was time for her to start living in the moment.

“I need to show you something.”

Draco lifted a brow but didn’t offer any objections when Hermione slipped her hand into his, leading him from the festivities. They stopped long enough to locate his jacket before slipping from the lamp light.

They left the growing town behind, taking the worn dirt road, only the moonlight for guidance. After sometime of silence, Hermione pulled him from the road and into the trees. It wasn’t long before the sound of water running over rocks filled the air.

Hermione had pulled him through the trees to the edge of a glittering brook.

Draco, thoroughly confused, waited silently for Hermione to explain while she nervously pulled at the fabric of her dress.

Taking a deep breath of courage she knelt and began to unbutton her boots. Quickly her stockings followed the boots, neatly being set aside on a nearby boulder. With a tremble in her hands she reached for the buttons of her dress, stopping when she felt Draco settle a hand over hers.

They didn’t speak but when Hermione looked over her shoulder she saw the question in Draco’s gaze. Remembering the potion she had prepared in her spare time, she slipped it from her pocket and his eyes widened with understanding.

Hermione looked away and before she could find a reason not to, she drank it.

Draco needed no more encouragement and pulled her into his arms.

With moans of taking and giving, fumbling hands, and nervous gasps, they each took turns removing an article of clothing. Taking just enough time to run fingers across skin to get to the next barrier.

Once all of their clothing had been removed Draco moved his mouth down her body, his tongue exploring her breast, her moans encouraging him. When her hand ran down his chest, his abdomen, he held her from going lower. He pulled back to study her face.

“Are you sure? We can still stop if you’re not ready.” His voice was hoarse with need, eyes begging her to say yes.

“I never told you when you asked before… I had imagined this, in a place similar to here. With you.”

Draco answered her with a groan and guided her hand to his cock, his body tensed with pleasure and his head fell forward to rest on her shoulder, thrusting his hips forward on impulse.

Hermione felt a sense of power and need spasm through her, it came more strongly when he returned the favor by running two of his fingers along the sensitive skin between her thighs.

Certain that she was doing the right thing, what she wanted, what she needed, she took control. She urged Draco to sit on his jacket, leaning back on his hands as she knelt over him with gazes locked. Love shined back at her as she slowly lowered herself, beads of sweat glued the fringe of Draco’s hair to his forehead as she began guiding him into her.

With a groan Draco closed his eyes and lay back, not caring if he lay in the dirt or not.

Both lovers were overwhelmed with the new sensations controlling them. Their movements were on instinct. A tentative roll of hips meeting upward thrusts, hands grasping and pulling until the tension building inside at last broke.

At Hermione’s cry of release Draco sat up and wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her hair, grinding against her until a moment later he had his own release, moaning her name.

It was a long moment they stayed, wrapped in each other’s embrace, allowing their breathing to return to normal. Hermione began to laugh quietly.

Draco leaned back, lifting a brow.

“Was I that terrible?”

This caused Hermione to laugh even more.

“No! I was just thinking… this summer has been literally insane. If someone had told me a year ago that the most normal thing about my next summer would be me shagging Draco Malfoy I would have hexed you and them back to first year.”

Draco smiled and kissed her on the forehead before helping her stand.

“Normal hmm? I’m not sure if I’m offended or not.”

Hermione’s happiness shone in the moonlight.

* * *

 

The walk back to town was leisurely as the lovers took the path slowly, enjoying the quiet with their arms linked.

Their peace was shattered by the sound of shouting and the appearance of soldiers in front of them, aiming down rifles.

“It’s them! They aided that- that- witch in taking the Duchess and Prince. Yokav will want to interrogate them.” One of them said.

Hermione recognized several of them from the night of the massacre.

“Draco, have you your wand handy?” Hermione said quietly.

“Stop speaking and raise your hands!”

“Yes. You?”

“In my pocket…”

“Mine’s in my sleeve. When we’re not in town, I prefer to have it more accessible-“

There was a shot, a cloud of dirt burst between Draco and Hermione’s feet.

“Hands!”

“-When I count to three I’ll cast a shield while you-“

“Draco they are using muggle firearms. The only good our magic will have against them is if you’re fast enough to transfigure those bullets into butterflies…”

They were unable to say more as for the time being they admitted defeat. Their hands were roughly bound with rope and led to a nearby house where they were then tied back to back and sat on the floor.

Without another word their captors moved to their post at the windows, presumably waiting for their commander to come in and interrogate them.

“Lovely turn this night took…” Hermione grumbled as she immediately began to stretch her hand as far as she could toward Draco’s sleeve. “Remind me that we need to practice wandless magic. Wandless apparition would be perfect right about now.”

Draco didn’t reply as he strained to give Hermione access to his sleeve. They both froze when the sound of a man’s yell echoed through the night.

Their rescue came swiftly in the form of a cloaked Brea Fox stunning the remaining soldiers and binding them.

“Meet me back where we first came here.” Brea said quietly as she unbound the two teenagers.

“Where are you going?” Draco demanded as he inspected the marks on Hermione’s wrists.

“Just go and stay there!” Brea practically growled before she disapperated.

Draco and Hermione shared a look before following her orders.

* * *

 

Hermione and Draco had just enough time to gather any evidence of their stay, excluding the canvas before the arrival of Brea signaled the end of their stay.

She didn’t speak to them, not even to ask if they were prepared. Instead she worked to open a doorway back to their natural timeline, and led them through.

Hermione couldn’t resist looking back, watching as the tent disappeared, leaving only trees and a rising sun.

Brea kept her hood up and her back to them.

“I’ll leave you to make your own way home. Tell your employer to cease trying to find me.”

Hermione, realizing that Brea meant to leave them where they were ran forward.

“You said I was owed answers. So answer this. Why are you so familiar to me? Why do I want-“ Hermione stopped as she couldn’t find the words to express wanting to hold onto someone like they would their child.

Brea tucked a section of Hermione’s hair behind her ear and smiled.

“You already know why.”

She looked over her shoulder toward Draco before meeting Hermione’s gaze again.

“It may seem curious and unorthodox but everything I’ve done… well I’ll just leave it at that.”

“No I have more quest-“

And then she was gone.

“-ions….”

Draco took a moment to watch Hermione process the witch’s disappearance.

“Well… now what?”

* * *

 

A quick investigation revealed that Brea had left them near the end of July causing Draco to curse explicitly and Hermione to scold him for it. It was a long journey back to St. Petersburg for the exhausted couple, where they reluctantly parted.

Draco had to explain his story to an angry Theo who had spent the past month intercepting mail from his father and continuing the success of Draco’s project. Draco was relieved to learn that everything had proceeded as planned and at the beginning of August he and Theo returned home.

He was granted the extension on his and Astoria’s engagement announcement. He received his Hogwarts letter, congratulating him on becoming this year’s Headboy, everything was going his way. But he missed Hermione terribly.

Hermione returned to her own home and promptly fell into a deep sleep. When she awoke she wrote about her experience, leaving out Draco. As a footnote in her report Hermione added that the subject had no wish to be found and demanded such a message be delivered to Hermione’s benefactor.

Madam Bagshot was thrilled in the journey Hermione had taken and after Hermione graduated, offered to bring her under her wing until her retirement, which Hermione accepted without hesitation. The remainder of Hermione’s summer was spent at her mother’s side learning to cook and adventure free, eventually receiving her own letter of congratulations for Headgirl. But she missed Draco and he was always in her thoughts, in her dreams.

The first day of seventh year couldn’t come soon enough.

 

 

 


	53. Worlds Apart

 

 

 

Hermione felt odd about beginning her seventh year at Hogwarts. She felt honored and proud to have been promoted to Head Girl, her peers and professors looked at her with respect and she happily accepted her new responsibility. But it was her experience with time travel and Draco Malfoy that left her feeling somewhat older.

She no longer considered herself to be a child after what she had seen.

Now as she sat with her fellow Gryffindor’s during the sorting, she struggled not to distance herself from the cheers and laughter as each first year were sorted. And then there was the way her friends seemed to have paired up over their vacation.

There was Ginny, her arm looped through Harry’s, holding him tightly to her side. They had been involved for some time now but the gentle light in Harry’s green eyes when he would watch Ginny cheer and welcome the newest Gryffindor’s told Hermione that perhaps they had gone to a new level of intimacy.

 Ron hadn’t written her over the summer which wasn’t in itself strange or uncommon as typically he would only write once, perhaps twice if something truly exciting had happened over the summer but now she knew he had finally mustered up and properly asked Lavender. In turn properly consuming his attention, not that Hermione minded terribly. She gave a small smile as their hands linked and were then displayed atop the table.

She felt a deep pang of envy. Such displays were forbidden for her.

Against her will her brown eyes moved to the opposite side of the hall where Draco sat between Blaise and Theodore. His expression was impassive save for the occasional nod to each new young arrival to his table. Her eyes were caught on the shine of his Headboy badge. She was equally proud and apprehensive of this new partnership with Draco.

While the sorting had concluded as well as the headmaster’s speech, Hermione had become lost in her earlier journey aboard the Express.

_Their gazes instinctively sought the other from across the train car, causing the rush and chatter of excited students bustling around them, to fall away. Though it had been mere weeks since they’re return, it had felt like years._

_“Um- Hermione, perhaps we should continue on?” Ginny said from her side tugging on her sleeve._

_Hermione’s cheeks reddened and she gave a mental shake, attempting to ignore the whispers and stares._

_“Right. Hopefully they are staring because of my new status.” She said quietly back to Ginny._

_“I wouldn’t count on that…” Ginny muttered._

_She continued down the corridor, keeping her eyes on her path and from Draco’s. They were back in the real world, the world where appearances mattered to most and her future depended on staying away from him, though she did make eye contact with Theodore Nott. The look in his eyes was knowing but he gave a polite nod which she answered._

_“I see congratulations are in order Granger.”_

_Hermione turned startled eyes toward Daphne Greengrass who stepped from the compartment Draco and Theo had been standing outside of. Her expression held a frozen smile as her eyes slid from the Headgirl badge pinned to Hermione’s robe to the Headboy badge pinned to Draco’s._

_“Thank you.” Hermione said simply with a slight lift of her chin._

_“Shouldn’t you greet Draco? You are to be working closely together this year after all. It wouldn’t be seemly to begin such partnership with a social snub.”_

_Hermione did not care for the calculating tone Daphne was using but she understood the game in which the other witch wished to play._

_“How thoughtless of me.” Hermione said in a dry voice yet she offered nothing more to Daphne’s demand._

_“There you are!” A breathless Astoria joined them in the crowded corridor, dragging her trunk behind her. “Mother said she thought she saw you step into this car. Here Draco, be a love and help me with my trunk please.”_

_Hermione was startled when the younger Greengrass sister dropped her trunk at Draco’s feet who ignored the occurrence and left the car without another word, leaving Astoria with a pout and Daphne a frustrated glare._

_“I’m doing everything Mother-“_

_“Allow me to put this away for you.” Theo interrupted Astoria and quickly stored her trunk in the compartment, Astoria following._

_“Come on Hermione.” Ginny pulled Hermione from the awkward situation and toward the prefect compartment. “I have the sneaking suspicion Greengrass’ mother is instructing that girl to seduce Malfoy.” Ginny said._

_“I suspect so as well. Not that it’s our business Ginny.”_

_“You’re joking right? Her mother is trying to steal-“_

_Hermione whirled on Ginny._

_“Shh! She’s not stealing anything!” Hermione hissed with a cautious look over her shoulder._

_Ginny rolled her eyes._

_“You better get to your compartment.”_

_Hermione nodded. “Remind Ron that the meeting is in twenty minutes.”_

_“Yes Madam Headgirl.”_

_When Hermione entered the prefect compartment Draco was already seated inside. Hermione’s first instinct was to throw her arms around him and tell him how much she had missed him._

_“Don’t mind me. Go on and give my cousin a good ole fashioned hello.”_

_Hermione was embarrassed that she hadn’t noticed Stephen was already seated inside as well._

_She opened her mouth to apologize but he held up a hand, his face split with a teasing smile._

_“Now don’t go embarrassing yourself and damaging my pride by admitting that you had no idea I was even here.” He stood and pulled Hermione into a quick hug, over his shoulder she picked up Draco’s glare and gave him an apologetic smile._

_“Congratulations on the promotion!” Stephen said when he released her._

_“Thank you Stephen.” Hermione took a seat across from Draco and took out her journey assigned to keeping her Headgirl duties in order. She avoided looking at Draco as much as she could, pretending to study her lists of duties for the prefects. In reality their night together was playing through her mind, causing warmth to spread across her cheeks._

_The sound of Draco giving a small cough brought her eyes to his and her heart fluttered at the small smile he gave her, the gleam in his silver eyes made her suspect that he was having similar thoughts._

_The moment broke when the door slid open and prefects began to crowd into the small compartment._

Hermione blinked as someone snapped fingers close to her eyes and she found herself back in the present. Harry was giving her a curious look.

“Alright there Hermione?”

Hermione quickly looked to make sure she hadn’t captured anyone else’s attention, then straightened her school robes with a sincere smile.

“Naturally I am Harry.”

Harry arched a brow and nodded toward her empty plate.

“Tuck in then Headgirl.”

Before she could select her first item of food, the high-pitch sound of laughter rose above the general chatter, drawing several pairs of eyes as well as her own toward the Slytherin table.

That’s where one Astoria Greengrass was happily placing some sort of roasted meat and potatoes on the plate before Draco who watched her with shocked, angry eyes.

* * *

 

One Month Later

“I don’t know how much more of this I can stand.” Draco groaned into his hands as he scrubbed them up and down his face. He stood before a mirror in the dorm bathroom. Theo was studying himself as he tied his tie in a half-Windsor, but he spared his friend a quick look out of the corner of his eyes.

Draco did certainly look as if he were in a special kind of hell with his shirt still untucked, tie in a terrible looking knot, hair mussed and shadows under his eyes.

“I’m going to speak with Snape.” He said hoarsely.

“May I ask why you believe that would be a wise idea?” Theo finished his knot and turned to sweep his robe around his shoulders.

With jerky movements Draco began to straighten his uniform and hair.

“He’s the missing girl’s uncle. He must have _some_ idea as to where his sister and child disappeared to. I’m tired of my skin crawling every time that girl my father is pushing on me is within my sight. Always trying to touch me.” Draco shuddered dramatically.

Theo frowned at him. “Draco you need to consider this carefully. He is also your godfather and friend of your father. What if he were to tell him you’ve been asking questions of a sensitive nature? You must also consider how this affects Astoria. She is after all innocent in all of this. She is merely being obedient to her parents’ wishes.”

Draco ignored his friend’s words and strode from the bathroom. Within moments he was knocking on the door to his professor’s office. At the invitation from the other side Draco straightened his shoulders and entered the intimidating professor’s office. Professor Snape was seated at his desk, quill held firmly in ink stained fingers that swiftly moved across thick parchment.

“What is it Mr. Malfoy?” Snape asked without looking up from his work.

Draco stiffened his spine and stood with his hands behind his back.

“Over vacation I heard a curious bit of history about Nott’s family.”

The quill paused.

“I don’t mean to pry… Only I never knew you had a sister, sir.”

Snape looked up at last, his eyes dark and piercing.

“My sister… is none of your concern Mr. Malfoy. If my personal life is the only reason for your unscheduled visit then I must ask you to leave as I have important matters to attend to.”

Draco stood silently considering his next words as the quill went back to scratching across the parchment.

“Excuse my impertinence sir but that fact that I’m betrothed to your niece leads me to believe that your personal life is very much my concern.”

The quill paused again. Black eyes met ice blue, searching but unyielding.

“I see. I ask you to believe me when I say that I understand your need to answers but all I have for you is that I do not know the whereabouts of my sister. I also ask that you do not bring her up to me again.”

Draco’s jaw clenched in frustration and his gaze narrowed.

“Very well then. I’ll leave you to your work.” He bit out and turned toward the door. As he let himself out a thought occurred to him and he slid into the shadows of the hallway to wait.

Nearly half an hour passed before Snape left his office, Draco trailing discreetly behind him. When Snape turned toward the owlery he knew his suspicions hadn’t been unfounded.  

“Snape is hiding something.” Draco said quietly to Theo that evening as they sat at the end of the Slytherin table. “He wrote to someone and I’d bet my entire inheritance that it had to do with my little visit.”

“Or, it could be nothing but coincidence. You said he was writing something already when you arrived.”

Draco sent a sneer toward Theo but let the topic go as Astoria dropped into the spot next to him, sitting close enough for their arms to touch. Draco struggled to keep a grimace off his face and shifted closer to Theo.

“Draco my buddy boy!” Blaise called loudly before wedging himself between Draco and Astoria. Draco was a mixture of annoyance and relief and Astoria pouted childishly. Theo effectively pushed off the end rolled his eyes and sat on Astoria’s other side.

Blaise monopolized Draco’s attention with his plans for the Quidditch season tryouts, and Astoria picked at her food with a glum look on her face.

Theo couldn’t help but feel pity for the younger girl. He didn’t particularly enjoy her company nor her behavior towards Malfoy, but he understood her wishes to obey her parents.

“How are your classes going Astoria?” he asked conversationally.

Surprise spread across her expression before she hid it with precision, replaced with a friendly smile.

“Oh! Very well indeed. Professor Flitwick told me himself that he is absolutely _charmed_ by my exception skills in his class.”

When she began to genuinely laugh at her own terrible joke Theo found himself chuckling along.

“How about yours? You must be as frantic as I am about OWLS what with this being your year for NEWTS.”

While she spoke Theo noticed that her glass of apple cider was empty and he reached for the nearest picture and began to refill her glass.

“I believe that I will be more than ready for them I’m not Granger or Malfoy but I believe I can hold my own.”

Astoria’s happy expression dimmed slightly.

“Message for you Malfoy.” A younger student in Hufflepuff colors said from behind Draco who accepted the roll of parchment sending the student off. Theo and Astoria watched as he read the note.

“Dumbledore wants a meeting with the Headgirl and I after dinner. Theo will you see to it that the other Slytherin prefects are given their round schedules for the next week? I left them at my desk in the dorm.” Draco said while leaning forward to look around Blaise and Astoria.

Theo nodded and he and Astoria watched as he quickly left the table and strode for the exit where Granger already waited. Theo noticed that while they spoke, Draco stood a bit too close and Granger looked a bit too breathless as she looked up at Draco. Theo hoped none others noticed the obvious intimate air the two fools had about them.

“Theo… you know Draco better than anyone. Do you think… perhaps maybe… he and the Headgirl are… together?” Astoria asked quietly as she watched the two leave the Great Hall.

Theo had no wish to lie. Rather than answer her he gave her a long look and stood to take his leave.

* * *

 

Same night – Diagon Ally

Fred sighed in boredom as he leaned on the counter of his and Georges shop. The sun had officially set, and his stomach gave an impatient growl, signaling that it was time to close up for the day.

 

“Owning a joke shop is everything I thought it would be but some days its just bloody dull. Like today. With school back in session for the season it’s unbearable. I need laughter and the loud yelling of children.” Fred said with a sigh, his blue eyes looking glassy and lifeless, he held his chin in his hand.

 

George who had been looking over a new Daily Prophet advertisement, checking for errors, looked over at his favorite twin and rolled his eyes. “Fred you need to get a hobby…or a girl. You seem pretty pathetic.”

 

Fred dropped his head onto the counter. “My hobby _is_ this shop. And I can get a girl… but we get five minutes into a date and I’m falling asleep. Not everyone can be as lucky as you and snatch up the only decent one around.”

 

George’s chest puffed up a bit in pride. The result of George and Angelina agreeing to tie the knot should have been wonderful and it was only it turned George insufferable to his twin with his now all wise knowledge on how to find the perfect witch. This past year Lee had married a lovely and sold them his part of the business to follow her as she studied magical maladies in South America.

 

George looked out the front window of the shop and nodded his head toward an old broken down house across the street. “You could always buy that and fix it up.”

 

Fred scoffed. “That pile of glass and weeds? It’ll never amount to anything other than a place to throw our hard earned galleons away.” Fred sighed again. He wasn’t being truthful. In fact he found the house a bit thrilling and couldn’t help wondering if it held any secrets. He wouldn’t in fact mind undertaking its restoration but he just felt like being stubborn. “I don’t need a girl and I don’t need a waste of time.  I need to invent something. I’ll be in the back if I’m needed.” He said before leaving his hunger gone for the moment. George gave a shake of his head with a grunt and waved his brother back, his focus once again on the work before him.

* * *

 

One Week Later- Seoul, South Korea

 

Despite the late hour, the streets Seoul were still filled with life. None more so than the streets of the Gangnam District. Near the Han River were a small community of ramshackle houses and business. A couple of flickering streetlights shined upon a white food trailer with several card tables and mismatched chairs. In order to offer more light, the trailer and posts were lined with Christmas lights.

While the old woman and her son inside cooked delicious odeng, the main attraction for this simple pub was the cheap soju and the loose pockets ready to gamble.

 

Brea sat at one of the crowded card tables, and took a small drag from a cigarette perched between her fingers, studying the cards in her hand. She despised the addictive habit but it gave her the look of an over confident school girl trying to play with the big boys. A look she needed to win this game of poker which was quickly becoming higher and higher stakes.

 

While she occupied one side of the table with her bottle of half drank soju, the other sides were occupied by a very young Korean man who hadn’t introduced himself, and two brothers whose accents told her they were from the south of England. The brothers had arrogantly introduced themselves as Alphus and Changly Rosier.

 

Brea briefly considered if she had heard the name somewhere but figured in turn that she was probably mistaken. She recognized neither man who seemed about fifteen or so years older than herself, dirty brown hair cut short and sharp blue eyes for Alphus and bleary brown eyes for Changly.

 

The Seoul native seated in front of her was just a kid with a false sense of bravery at first but now he sat dejectedly and with no small amount of apprehension in his dark eyes. He had already lost an alarming amount of won. He had shaggy hair that had once been black but was now bleached white. An earring dangled from his left ear lobe.

She understood the boy’s unease. She herself had lost quite a bit to the Rosier brothers. And she needed this win. And the won was getting piled high in this game and Brea had an excellent hand. However when Changly raised the pot another two hundred won as well has calling for another bottle of soju,

 

Brea had to fight back the frown that wanted to take over her face. There’s no way the prat had a better hand than her and if the already folded Alphus’s nervous and at the same time threatening glances towards his brother meant anything, he was beginning to regret his brothers actions. Brea flicked her eyes toward the crowd they had attracted as they waited to see if she would fold or not.

 

With a childish giggle she stubbed her half smoked cigarette against the heel of her boot and added her last two won and sat back, giving a bored flick of her wrist to, sending a spark to the ground from her cigarette. Immediately Changly raised it. Only this time not with money. “I’ll bet property. A house in London.”

 

Brea raised an eyebrow and she noticed the kick Alphus gave his brother. “Where in London?” Brea asked in suspicion, her voice covered in a fake French accent she had been using from the moment she heard the brothers introduce themselves. Sometimes a girl had to play it safe.

 

Changly flicked his eyes to his brother and swallowed. “Lass like you aint never heard of it but it’s a very prestigious street it is. Diagon Alley.”

 

Brea felt her heartbeat pick up but she held in her true reaction. Raising a free hand she touched the long ago given crystal necklace. Just two hours before the crystal had begun to glow for the first time since Martha had gifted it to her on her eleventh birthday.

 

 Feeling as if she were no longer in control came the next realization. They were wizards.  From her home at that. Before she could inquire more Alphus roughly pulled his brother over and she could just make out their whispered conversation.

 

“What are you doing?” Alphus whispered harshly.

 

“Relax! I’ve got a good hand. Besides if I lose all I lose is a piece of paper. The chit will never find it. And she’s all out of coin. What’s she got to bet?”

 

“Do you have the deed?” Brea interrupted to which Changly threw down a folded sheet of paper which had been in his coat pocket. In the back of her mind Brea told herself that this was a bad idea. Taking the chance and winning this property from two clearly untrustworthy wizards was not part of the plan as she only needed the money. Brea sighed internally as she came to the conclusion that while this was a bad idea it was also a sign….and she also had no choice. Brea had already bet all the money she had and on a reckless move she reached in her pocket and pulled out her owner’s license for the Sea Witch.

 

“This is my sailboat. Shall we?” The words left a bad taste in her mouth.

 

Changly’s drunken eyes looked pleased as he laid down his cards. Brea couldn’t help it as she grinned and laid down her four of a kind, beating his straight. Brea chuckled happily as she was now two thousand won richer and the owner of property in London. And best of all she hadn’t lost her sailboat.

 

Quickly she finished the last swig of her soju. The warm burn was delightful and she was high on the win and she was even more warmed by the small crowd clapping at her success.  As she began to scoop her winnings towards herself Alphus slammed a hand down in the middle of the pile of her well won money causing her to jump and her hand instinctively moved to the sleeve of her jumper, ready to pull her wand free. The actions caused the kid sitting across from her to stumble from his seat, he instinctually reached for what looked like a knife.

 

She locked eyes with the boy and she gave a barely noticeable shake of her head and at once the boy nodded slightly and moved his hand back to his side but he stayed near Brea. The once clapping crowd had fallen into a tense silence and some took a cautious step back. Brea held her breath and lifted her eyes to the older man as he lowered his face to her level. She knew that look.

 

It gave her a nervous sick feeling that she hadn’t felt in a long time. The look of a man fixing to make threats so as subtly as she could she pulled her wand from her sleeve and softly made sure he knew it was there when she poked him in the chest with it. Once his eyes had flicked down and recognized her wand he looked back at her. She ignored the acrid smell of his breath and pleaded with her eyes to let it go.

 

This was a sign for her and she needed to take it and run so when he stepped back she did. She slipped her wand back up her sleeve and gathered her winnings, gave a polite bow to everyone present and she made to leave. She had glanced around quickly for the kid in order to thank him but he was already gone.

 

Alphus angry voice growling at his brother about how they were supposed to explain this situation to their boss followed her as she quickly left the little trailer and she made her way to the river dock where her boat was moored. She checked behind her to be sure the upset brothers didn’t follow her before she boarded her boat and double checked her always present protective wards and spells. Satisfied everything was as it should be she went below deck and laid down heavily on her bed, still in her clothes which unfortunately smelled like the underbelly of a rotting sewer. Breathing in deeply in order to calm her adrenalin soaked nerves.

 

“I have news Forge.” She said to the pygmy puff as it purred in her ear. “I’ve got the money honey! In the morning I’ll pay the fee and then it’s to Romania for us.”

 

Back in the streets in Gangnam the Rosier brothers were deep in a drunken heated argument. Alphus paced back and forth in front of his brothers sagging frame as he leaned on the building behind him.

 

“How could you be so stupid? I knew I should have taken this contract myself! A witch Changly! She was a sodding witch! And just what are we supposed to tell the mistress eh?” Alphus growled at his cowering brother. The violent urge to hit something namely his pathetic brother was so intense it was breaking his control. “I had worked for months Changly! Months! To get that broken down old man to hand over that rotting pile of rocks!” Alphus stopped pacing long enough to pick up the tin lid from a nearby trash can and hurl it at Changly’s head, just barely missing him as it hit the wall and clattered to the cracked pavement below. “It took torturing his granddaughter in front of him to get it! For nothing!” he screamed. Changly hung his head even lower feeling more and more worthless and lost with each of his brothers cutting words.

 

Alphus bent down in front of his younger brother and lifted his head by the short hairs on the back of his head. Forcing Changly to meet his eyes and Changly could feel the hatred his brother was feeling towards him but he remained silent. He knew better than to try and plead with his older brother.

 

The girl had been pretty, and the drink had been strong. His drunken mind had wanted to impress the girl and he had made a severe mistake. All that was left now was to dread the consequences and hope death would be swift.  

 

“We are going to return to Bulgaria and _you_ will tell her what you have done.” Alphus dropped his brothers’ head and it sagged back on his thin shoulders.

 

Changly nodded. He knew what was going to come. He was going to be hurt badly and then they were going to hunt and hurt that girl even worse. He sincerely hoped she wasn’t foolish enough to go to Diagon Alley. Somehow he wished he could have told her to stay away from there. As far away as possible.

 

 


	54. Nothing Without Her

 

 

Lucius Malfoy woke to urgent whispers racing through his mind, his head already aching. They had plagued him for all his life, the whispers, orders demanded of him by the stars. Whispers mixed with two lifetimes of memories often caused him pain. A pain he bore with strength and pride for not many could say they were descended from gods and goddess and trusted to carry out their demands. And demand they did.

Amber eyes glittered with suppressed amusement as hair matching his own whipped in the wind, dancing across her face, her serious face warming with amusement when a leaf became tangled in the strands.  

Lucius frowned at the happy image of Brea Fox in a magical photograph laying on his desk. He didn’t know when the photograph had been taken or even where it came from. When he had pulled himself from the side of his sleeping wife, wincing at the pounding between his eyes, dressed and sat at his desk, prepared to reply to the correspondence from the Greengrass matron, a task he was not keen about, there the photograph sat.

He didn’t know the how but he knew the why. When the whispered commands weren’t getting results the messages became clearer, more insistent. He needed to find Brea. Sending Granger after her had had results though. She was meddling with time. Just not the time she was meant to be meddling with. Since her appearance in Russia there had no longer been any sign of his time meddling cousin.

With his thoughts now turned toward Hermione Granger, his headache increased. Lucius sighed and shifted his eyes from the thorn in his right side to the thorn in his left.

The angry letter informing him of his sons ill transgressions regarding his betrothed were scribbled about, demands that his son play his part or else. Lucius did not much care for the woman’s tone but she did have a point. His son had a duty just as he had had. As his father had and so on. Draco did not know, did not understand just what he had gone through to secure his place in history. To give him he the life he deserved. Saving him from a poor, cold life of closed doors and ruined opportunities.

And he was throwing it all away for a fool’s infatuation with a lowborn.

 The witch did well enough for the situation she had been born into, a couple of dentist with a respected practice. That wasn’t the problem. No he found issue with the fact that the parents were in debt to their teeth. Too many charity cases, their soft hearts had them welcoming all customers whether they could pay for their children’s rotted teeth or not.

It was a nice thought but he would not allow his hard earned fortune to go to waste pulling her family out of the bin as was bound to happen should she encourage Draco further. His father had believed it to be fashionable to buy on credit and never pay. Without the Dark Lord to siphon funds from his following, Lucius had hopped his father would be different. He’d learned that you cannot change someone’s character, and his father had been irresponsible and weak. He’d married well then driven his wife, Lucius mother, into an early grave with the creditor threats and spending.

Lucius straightened his shoulders. He was not his father. His marriage to Narcissa had been calculated and precise. His son’s marriage was calculated and precise. It would be the talk of the peerage throughout country after country.

At his wife’s insistence he’d originally settled with pairing their firstborn son with the newly born Nott heiress. That had quickly fallen apart as she’d disappeared soon after birth. Now it was his turn to choose the mother of his future grandson and a Greengrass was nearly the top, with their connection to the royal families of Britain and France.

“Lucius –“

Lucius looked up from the letter and his thoughts as his wife’s light knock echoed from the door and she slid into his office.

“Good morning my love. Do remember that I need your help with welcoming the new gardener.  I will miss Mrs. Sherrington but if anyone deserves retirement it’s her. And we’re to meet with the decorator for this year’s Holiday festivities. Regulus decided to pass on his turn. And don’t believe for a moment you can get out of it… I won’t have you in here plotting and scheming all day.” Narcissa said with a pointed glare.

Lucius smiled warmly, ever proud of his choice of wife.

“You will have my rapt attention, as always.”

Narcissa gave him a suspicious look before closing the door behind her, leaving him alone with his headache and thorns. 

The movement of Brea’s photograph caught his attention again and a thought began to form. A smile only a Malfoy could conjure slid across his lips.

“I know how to bring you back to where you belong you meddlesome little fox. And in doing so I’ll have cleared up my other little problem as well.”

* * *

 

There was a late November chill in the library as Hermione walked quickly from bookshelf to bookshelf, gathering books across every subject. In a flurry of hair and robes, she had stack upon stack of neatly organized books on a desk in the library and sat with a huff, ignoring the curious glances of the few students who had opted to stay indoors rather than brave the cold Quidditch game.

A trill of excitement sang through her blood as she gazed at her work. Nothing spoke to her more than having her study time organized and planned out and ready for her to dive in. Sitting with her back straight she reached for the first book on transfiguration.

“What’s all this?”

The voice coming from behind her caused her to jump and twist in her chair to find Draco with a bewildered look on his face.

“Shhh! You’ll disturb the others. And me by the way.” Hermione said with a disapproving frown. “Why aren’t you at the Quidditch game?”

Draco shrugged, his eyes still in amazement at all the books she’d gathered.

“It’s only Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. One question… why have you built a fortress inside of a castle library?”

Hermione turned back toward her table with a fond smile.

“It’s a wonderful day to study. With mid-terms coming up in less than two months-“

“Granger stop right there.”

Hermione sighed at his interruption, disappointment and irritation edging her excitement. She knew what she’d hear next. She’d heard it countless times from her friends.

“Do you suppose the gossip mill will go into a frenzy if the Headgirl and boy studied together?”

Hermione lifted surprised eyes to his as he took the seat at her side.

“I believe you breathing the same air as me gives them more than enough. Draco what in Merlin’s gray beard are you doing… if your father finds out you willingly spent time with me…” Hermione didn’t like the apprehension welling in her chest.

Draco merely rolled his eyes and began to turn the pages of the book laying open on the table.

“What is he going to do? Disown me? I’m all he has and he has entirely way too much pride to let the estate go to my mother’s side. Could you imagine the damage Sirius would do to all his life’s work?”

Hermione’s shoulders fell a bit in shame as she had never told Draco the reason for her desire to keep their relationship secret. The relationship with his father was already strained and she had no wish to fray it. Hermione took a moment to watch Draco as he read, the fringe of his pale hair falling forward as his eyes moved across the page intently.

“Thank you, by the way…” She said quietly and he looked over at her with a confused frown.

“Whatever for?”

She looked at her creation of stacked books.

“For not teasing me. I know this might be a bit overboard but…. This is the first weekend all year that I haven’t had something else to do in relation to my additional duties. And I’ve missed studying for hours and hours at a time. I’ve really been looking forward to it. Anyone else would have teased me.” She looked over at him. “So I thank you.”

Draco’s lips turned up in a teasing smirk.

“Oh there’s no doubt that this is absolutely ‘overboard’. But I willingly join in with your madness.”

Hermione’s smile softened and she looked down at the book, only looking up when Draco shifted his chair closer to hers.

* * *

 

Hours of sitting in a hard chair had Hermione stretching her neck and shoulders, but it was with a smile of contentment. She had skimmed each and every book for pertinent information, her notes neatly written and organized, ready for her to study until finals before the holidays

Draco slid her notes over to his side and began to read through.

“Do you really believe human transfiguration will be in the finals?” he said with a frown.

“Of course. We’ve been learning the theory for ages now and Professor McGonagall is keen to teach the applications. Which I’m most interested in turning myself and others into inanimate objects. Can you imagine how incredible hide and seek would have been as children if we’d had the skill to turn ourselves into say an inconspicuous spade leaning against the shed?” Hermione spoke with animation.

“I couldn’t say what hide and seek is-“

“You’ve never played hide and seek?” Hermione asked with a bewildered whisper before closing her eyes and shaking her head. “Of course not. I can’t imagine your family would approve of such a muggle centric game. Well, there are many different versions however what my classmates and I played while growing up is where one person is ‘it’ and everyone else hides. The ‘it’ person counts down from a specific number and once they reach zero they have to seek out the others.”

“And this was fun?”

“Of course! And, if I may say so myself, I was always rather good at hiding.”

Draco arched a brow and watched as Hermione stood and began to pack up her belongings.

“Prove it.”

Hermione froze then slowly looked down at the still seated Draco.

“Malfoy… are you challenging my hiding prowess?”

He shrugged.

“It’s something I’ve never done before, played such a childish game. And I simply cannot allow you to go around spouting claims of untested grandeur.”

Hermione pursed her lips and folded her arms across her chest.

“You want to challenge me to a game of hide and seek. Malfoy this castle is enormous. I could hide and no one would find me for centuries.”

“So we set boundaries and time limits.”

  Hermione’s expression turned worried as thoughts of Draco’s father finding out about this flitted through her mind. Somehow the words _‘my father will hear about this’_ flitted through her mind. But with these thoughts came the realization that Draco must have had a rather boring childhood if he were never allowed to play such games.

“Alright. The limits are the outside grounds. Castle, forest and Quidditch pitch are off limits naturally. No magic for either of us and if you haven’t found me within half an hour, I’m coming out of hiding. Since the grounds are so expansive, you will need to count down from one hundred. Are these terms agreeable?”

Draco stood, considering her rules.

“I was thinking we could make the game a little more age appropriate.”

Hermione’s eyes watched him suspiciously.

“And how would you suggest we do that?”

“I think there ought to be a prize. I get to kiss you senseless if I find you.”

Hermione felt her face warm at his boldness but she couldn’t find any reason to deny his request. His father’s disproval was suddenly the furthest thing from her mind at the thought of kissing Draco.

“Agreeable. However if I win then we get to do something that I’ve never done before.”

“What would you do?”

Hermione grinned and looked around to make sure no one was listening before leaning close to whisper.

“I’ve never snuck out of Hogwarts at night. Im not counting the night in the garden as that was technically still Hogwarts’s territory.”

Draco looked at her with mocking shock.

“Merlin’s beard woman, have you no shame.”

Hermione glared teasingly as Draco laughed quietly.

“Do you agree or not?”

“Agree.”

“Good, now let’s get these books put away so we can get started.”

* * *

 

The school was dark and quiet when three AM rolled around and with it a young witch and wizard were slinking through the shadows towards the forest and out of bounds of the castles wards. When Draco felt the tingling sensation of magic move across his skin and then fade, he and Hermione stopped to collect their breaths.

The forest was dense and dark, beams of moonlight scattered through the bare branches and leaves crackled under their feet. Hermione leaned against a tree, her breathing slowing but her smile wide, her breath misting in the cold fall air.

“This is brilliant!”

Draco shook his head in amazement.

“I think you’ve had a taste for adventure and now you thirst for it.”

Hermione only shrugged and looked around the forest.

“This place is supposed to be terrifying. Doesn’t seem so awful to me.”

At that moment there was a snap of wood in the distance and a misty fog began to collect on the forest floor.  Unease wound its way up Draco’s spine.

“My turn to pick something I’ve never done and that’s I’ve never ate at a muggle restaurant. I suggest we go do that now.” Draco said quietly, his voice tight.

“What? Now? Draco it’s three in the morning-“

“So take me somewhere that’s open at three AM.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and held her hand out toward him. Draco quickly slipped his hand into hers and held tightly as she twisted them into disapperation.

They landed in a dark street, shielded from view by a massive trash bin. After a moment of gathering their wits, Hermione marched from the darkness, pulling him along behind her. The city was only marginally quieter than it would be had the time been more of a decent hour, as it was there was only one building on the street with its lights on.

Draco stopped to stare in awe at the massive red and yellow glowing sign, twenty four hour service proudly displayed. A yank on his arm had him stumbling through a door into the restaurant. To his surprise there were a handful of patrons, mostly that of the older kind. He hardly noticed Hermione ordering with a teller, so enraptured was he by the brightly lit signs displayed around the place. Music could be heard floating through the air and the smell…

Draco felt his mouth watering at the scents overwhelming him. He vaguely registered Hermione grumbling about muggle money as she dug around in the small beaded bag she carried with her. His eyes finally focused on the teller at the counter, a girl with heavy lidded makeup and a bored expression was carrying little paper boxes on a plastic tray. His eyes widened in surprise when she handed it to Hermione who promptly accepted it and left him standing at the counter while she slid into a booth at the back of the restaurant.

A sign over her shoulder told him that she was seated next to the mens loo and Draco’s eyes widened even more. He hurried to slide into the opposite seat from her a table bolted to the wall between them and he leaned forward.

“I don’t believe that I have ever been handed food on a tray directly from where it was prepared, within seconds of ordering it, nor have I ever sat within direct view of a- a restroom.” Draco whispered, excitement laced his voice.

Hermione rolled her eyes and began to set the paper boxes in front of him.

“You wanted food at three am so here you are. It’s not top of the line but you get what you pay for. “

Draco opened one of the boxes and studied the contents.

“Some sort of sandwich?”

Hermione was busy unwrapping a long tube of some sort before jamming it into a hole in the top of a paper cup.

“It’s called a cheeseburger. Go on, give it a go. In the other box, you will find chips, otherwise known as fried potatoes, and this is your cola. Welcome to the world of fast food.”

Picking up the concoction of bread, vegetables, meat, and cheese, he gave a sniff. Mouthwatering he took a bite, eyes widening.

“This- is- ah- mazing!” He mumbled out around his mouthful. With hungry urgency he took mouth bite that only a teenage boy could take then tried the cola next. After several more bites he noticed Hermione watching him with a look of fond amusement but she wasn’t eating. Taking a hard swallow of cheeseburger and nodded toward the empty space before her. “You didn’t get any for yourself?”

Hermione shrugged.

“I’m not really hungry.”

Draco turned his concentration back to his delicious meal.

“Muggles are without a doubt brilliant. I’d eat this every day.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and slipped a few chips out of their box and ate them in one bite.

“If you did you’d be as big as Hagrid in no time. This food is incredibly unhealthy. Best in moderation.” And she took a sip of cola.

Draco stopped chewing and stared at her with hostility.

“I thought you said you weren’t hungry!”

Hermione raised her brows and took a few more chips.

“I’m doing you a favor, really.”

Draco curled his lip and went back to eating.

“What else have you yet to do?” Draco asked when he’d finished every crumb and had leaned back, satisfyingly full.

“I’ve never slept in class. But I really don’t have any wish to do that. Let’s see…” Hermione trailed off as she suddenly blushed and her eyes dropped to her hands where they sat folded on the table.

Draco sat up straighter, intrigued by where her thoughts had possibly gone.

“I’ve never pranked anyone.”

Draco rolled his eyes and gave a small laugh.

“Or gone skinny dipping, particularly in the prefects’ bathroom.”

Once again, she had Draco’s full attention.

“What are some things that you’ve never done?”

“Hmm, well plenty, specifically if it’s related to muggles. Such as a muggle sport. I’ve also never properly kissed my girlfriend before the entire school.”

Hermione’s eyes snapped up to lock with his and he could already see the excuses forming behind her lips.

“I say we need to do something about these things we’ve never done. Before we’ve graduated. You will teach me a muggle sport, I’ll help you prank someone.” Draco’s tone turned teasing. “As for skinny dipping… I’m not sure if I’m the one to help with that- might need to find someone more adventurous like my cousin Ste-“ He stopped when Hermione threw a balled up napkin in his face,

“In that case perhaps he can be the one I kiss in front of the whole school.”

Draco mock growled and leaned across the table to grip her arms and quickly pressed his lips against hers before sitting back in his seat. The teasing smile resting on her lips filled him with contentment.

“Have you plans for after graduation?” Hermione asked.

“I suppose I’ll spend time in Russia. I’m sure father is in just moments of waking up for the day, sitting down to look over the list of duties he has planned for me to take over once I’m done with Hogwarts.”

Hermione’s smile dimmed slightly.

“Pardon my bluntness but what would you do if you were just a regular wizard, who didn’t have a micromanaging father to plan every second of his life?”

“You’ve asked a similar question before.”

“And I didn’t get an answer. Stop avoiding it and tell me. What is Draco Malfoy’s dream?”

Draco focused on his now empty cola cup with restless hands.

“Do you promise not to laugh?”

Hermione’s eyebrows lowered.

“Draco I’m the last person in all of Europe to laugh at someone’s dream. You can tell me.”

“Of course, I know that. It’s just… I want to teach.”

Hermione’s face bloomed into an excited smile.

“Draco! That’s brilliant! What do you want to teach? You’re talented in so many of our classes, you could teach any of them.”

Draco smiled with hesitation.

“Thanks but actually… Actually I’d like to teach underprivileged children how to play the piano.”

Hermione’s eyes widened in astonishment and to his horror they filled with tears.

“Draco… I’m nearly speechless. That is just truly beautiful. And… I hope you find the courage to follow through with these dreams of yours.”

Draco cleared his throat and nodded. The pride and excitement in her voice told him she would fight for his dream even when he couldn’t. Her presence in his life was the only way he would bother changing his life’s direction. “Hermione… when you think of your future… am I there?”

Hermione’s expression turned serious and she looked around at the other diners.

“I don’t really know… I mean I haven’t thought beyond graduating and establishing myself as a historian. Madam Bagshot won’t be around forever and if I’m to take her place someday I’ll need to- to travel and-“

Draco smiled and shook his head.

“Hermione, I’m not talking about you moving into Malfoy Manor and planning the latest charity with Mother the moment we get off the Express. I- I wanted to know if you planned to- to show me where the best muggle restaurants are, or drag me to as many museums that have the name ‘museum’ in there somewhere. I just wanted to know if you would be there. Just there, that’s all.”

Hermione released a pent up breath.

“You mean you want a public relationship? But what of-“

“If I’m going to follow through with this teaching business then I want to do the whole package. My own life with my own decisions.” There was still a cloud of hesitation in her eyes causing Draco to wonder what she was holding back from him. “It’s only November. Still plenty of time to consider the rest of our lives.”

“How about we start with returning to the school and discussing this whole muggle sport thing.”

* * *

 

By the end of the first term Hermione had successfully taught Draco how to play tennis. She was only marginally familiar with the game but with it being the only sport she could safely teach while being terrible herself, it did the job.

Lucky for her, Draco was a swift learner, and despite the bitter winds and snow, the two had fashioned a net to float gently in the air and she had transfigured two sticks and a pinecone into the required equipment.

Draco enjoyed the game and never hesitated to taunt her with traditional sport like commentary which she happily returned in kind.

True to his word, Draco had assisted Hermione in pulling a simple prank of switching the teachers table with the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall. Her fellow house mates had laughed and sat up on the dais as if it were completely natural. From his spot at the Slytherin table he’d watched her with hidden amusement, as she’d waited apprehensively for the teachers to arrive for breakfast. She’d smiled in relief when Headmaster Dumbledore had smiled in amusement and happily sat in his usual spot at the table between the remaining houses.

Before they knew it, their time at Hogwarts for the year 1997 had come to an end and Draco now stood with his parents at the entry of their home, welcoming friends and family for their Holiday party.

The usual faces and names, the same comments about how tall he was getting and how he was as handsome as his father. The strain from not rolling his eyes was beginning to cause an ache behind his eyes already. 

“Smile Draco, your fiancé has arrived.” Lucius murmured in his ear.

Draco fought back a grimace. He’d forgotten the Greengrass family would be in attendance.

Daphne game him an icy stare as he nodded politely to her family, making note of Astoria’s excited expression and her mother’s cat caught the mouse smile.

He spent most of the party avoiding them, taking as much time as he could with Theo and Blaise or even Stephen, Mary and Altaria. However when dinner arrived it couldn’t be helped. He was seated to his father’s left and to his own right sat Astoria. She kept shooting him smiles. Merlin he missed Hermione.

Draco wasn’t given much opportunity to think about her for his father stood and all eyes turned toward him expectantly.

“Welcome, each of you. As the years since I joined my family with the Blacks have passed, I see more and more new faces seated before me. Narcissa is most insistent that every one of you are welcome…” He paused for the obliging laughter to his terrible joke. “I would like to take a moment to give a special welcome to Lord and Lady Greengrass and their two daughters. This is a particularly special welcome because Narcissa and I have an announcement to make.”

Draco felt his blood run cold and he turned shocked eyes from his father to his mother who was looking back at him with just as much shock as him. But the moment passed and she did as her breeding demanded. She stood gracefully and smiled at their guests.

“This time next year we hope to have you all gathered here for another happy occasion. The marriage of our son Draco to Lord and Lady Greengrasse’s daughter Astoria.”

With every clap of their hands, Draco felt his heart beat louder and louder. He was unresponsive to the excited laughter from the girl next to him. All he could do was pull his eyes from his pleased father and apprehensive mother to that of his angry cousin.

* * *

 

The next morning dawned on a sleepy Hermione opening the window to allow an impatient Skittles into her room where the owl left her copy of the Daily Prophet before helping herself to a treat. Hermione started to close the window when another owl appeared. Hermione quickly accepted the rolled parchment and offered a treat before sending the owl on its way, Skittles following behind.

Settling herself back on her bed with crossed legs she pulled the red ribbon from the parchment and read the note written in familiar handwriting.

_h-_

_do not even think about touching the prophet. will explain at hogwarts._

_s- by the request of d_

Hermione frowned at the parchment and tossed it to the side before picking up the newspaper.

**Malfoy and Greengrass Dynasties to Unite**

The bold headline covered a good third of the front page followed by a picture of Draco staring impassively at the camera with a giddy Astoria smiling graciously and waving to someone off picture.

“What mess have you got yourself into Malfoy…” Hermione grumbled in annoyance. Dropping the paper into the bin next to her bed, she certainly wish she’d listened to the note.

 


	55. The Seer

 

 

It had not for some time been a secret that the Headboy and girl had grown closer over the past few years and had even found themselves in curious situations. The true nature of their relationship however remained only known by a select few.

This didn’t keep the other students from craning their necks to get a good look at Hermione as she walked down the Express, monitoring the excited students. She could hear the murmured whispers as she passed them by.

_“I expected her to look more devastated…”_

_“Do you think she’ll confront them?”_

_“I would not want to be her right now…”_

As for Draco it was a constant stream of congratulations and sly looks… and Astoria at his side there to give her thanks. It took every ounce of his composure to bite back the words that would send her away, with tears in her eyes.

He wasn’t a fool, he knew she was sensitive and simply doing as her mother ordered.

After the holiday party had ended and Astoria had left with her family, a Malfoy ring on her finger given to her by his father, Draco had finally allowed himself to feel the betrayal that he had been keeping at bay.

With eyes of hard gunmetal he’d stared at his father. He’d wanted to shout at him, ask him why he’d gone back on his word. He’d done everything his father had asked him to do and now this. His father had only stared back at him with eyes just as hard.

It was then that Draco had made a decision.

Now as he made his way toward the prefect’s compartment, all he wanted was to see Hermione. Only he wanted to see her without Astoria trailing behind him. Hoping that she had heeded the note he’d sent. And that she hadn’t been told by Weaselette or someone else.

As it happened he arrived at the compartment just moments before Hermione did. He could see her walking from the opposite direction and a bit of panic settled around Draco’s shoulders.

“You must be on your way, Astoria. I have a meeting to prepare for.” He said without looking toward her.

“Of course Draco! I knew that. Come find me when you get done and I’ll finish telling you about the rest of my Holiday.” She tried to pull him down so she could press a kiss on his cheek but he kept his back rigid and after a moment she stepped back, her expression equally unreadable.

“Malfoy! Astoria! I hope you enjoyed your winter break. If you will pardon me, I’d really like to get inside the compartment and go over my meeting agenda.” Hermione said when she’d arrived at the entry way.

Astoria jumped back, a little startled and looked between the two seventh years rapidly.

“Oh! Of course, yes of course you need to... I had a very eventful Holiday. I hope yours was pleasant as well. I better get back to my friends. Bye Draco.” Astoria said quietly before quickly turning away.

Draco watched Hermione as she in turn watched Astoria leave. She had a warm expression, giving him hope that she had yet to have heard the announcement.

“Hmm such a pleasant and mild mannered girl. She’s going to make some pureblood wizard incredibly lucky someday.” She murmured before slipping into the empty compartment.

Draco sighed, dread filling his chest and he followed her in. He used his wand to lock the door and pulled the blind down over the window.

“I take it you know.”

Hermione sat next to the window and looked at him with a lifted brow.

“Telling someone to not look at something without any explanation is a sure way to get them to look at said something. Stephen didn’t even capitalize. I was horrified.” She gave a mock shudder and leaned back, watching him expectantly.

All Draco could do was stand there watching her with wide eyed apprehension.

“Well? Go one, tell me about the mess you’ve found yourself in.”

“You’re taking this rather well…” Draco muttered sarcastically as he dropped into the seat across from her.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Draco I’m not an idiot. I may not have been born in the wizarding world but I know how the world works. Aristocratic, pureblood, it’s all the same rubbish. Arranged marriages are not completely unheard of.” Hermione turned thoughtful. “A year from now is certainly soon however… Astoria will not graduate for what… another year?”

Draco ran a hand through his hair restlessly.

“I hear her mother is working on that… Where do I even start with this… just before our fifth year-“

“You mean to tell me that you have been engaged to Astoria Greengrass for over two years?”

“It’s a bit more complicated than that.” Draco said bitterly.

“Alright, I’m listening.”

“Father- _Lucius_ ,” Draco bit out. “Informed me of the contract with Greengrass when he learned we had been corresponding. He felt informing me of the decision would put a stop to whatever he thought we had between us. Whether you and I were involved or not, I was not about to sit quietly and marry the girl. Theo and I began to look for a loophole, a way out of the bloody contract.”

“And have you?”

Draco leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees.

“We believe so. Apparently Astoria was not the first choice to be welcomed into the Malfoy family. There was another girl, Theo’s cousin. Only she and her mother disappeared just after I was born. If I can find her, then it will void the contract with Astoria. Then all she needs to do is stall the wedding until one of us turns twenty and that contract is voided.”

“What is this missing girl’s name?”

“That’s the thing… We don’t know. On the contract she was only known as the daughter of Helen Nott and Evan Rosier. Theo and I have met with his Grandmother but unfortunately she was of little help.”

“Do you have a photograph of Helen? Perhaps we could go to the muggle authorities and file a missing person’s report.”

“All that I know of her looks are her brown hair and eyes. And she wasn’t a witch. What do you mean ‘we’?”

“Well obviously I’m going to help you. I can’t go about skinny dipping with a taken man now can I?”

Draco’s jaw dropped slightly in shock before giving him a small shake in wonder.

“I’m sorry but this is just not how I expected you to take this at all.”

“I’m more annoyed by the fact that you, yourself did not tell me, and a whole lot sooner for that matter.”

“My fath- Lucius was to have given me an extension on the marriage and announcement. I had hoped that this entire ordeal would just disappear. I don’t know why he went back on his word.”

Hermione leaned forward and set her hand atop his clasped fists.

“For now our hands are tied until Easter hols. Then we can see about searching the world of muggles for your intended.”

* * *

 

Cool wind whipped the long skirt Brea wore, twisting it around her legs as she struggled up a frosty hill. She tightened her fists in the folds of her cloak, pulling it tighter around her arms.

“Nearly there old girl.” She whispered to herself, her breath forming little puffs of mist. “Poor choice of clothing you made today.”

After a dozen or so more minutes of hiking she’d made it to the top of the steep hill and paused to take in the wonder before her.

“I’ve made it. We’ve made it haven’t we little ones.” She gave her bag resting between her stomach and cloak a gentle pat.

Behind her rested a worn cart trail, only ever used by the occasional farmer, continuing on past the hill she had just climbed. The trail led back to a small fishing village resting on the Black Sea, a sea she had just crossed after traveling for days from the Far East.

She was tired and dirty but none of that mattered anymore for she and her precious cargo had arrived.

Down the hill nestled a wide valley with a small smattering of cottages, livestock in wooden pens, and a wide stream winding its way toward the sea.

A rush of wind burst against Brea’s face, sending her pointed hat tumbling from her head. Brea turned her face to sky and smiled at the sight of a brightly colored dragon flying in a wide arc, circling back around the valley ridge.  The gusts from the dragon’s flight sent her hat bouncing down the hill, luckily in the direction of the Dragon Sanctuary.

With an exhilarated laugh that could only come from relief of a long journey ending, she grabbed her long skits in one hand, ignoring the chill racing against her legs, and followed her hat down the hill, swopping it up and shoving it back into place upon her head.

Her approach went largely unnoticed by those working at the sanctuary. She stopped a middle aged witch who as luck would have it spoke thick accented English and was given directions to the Director of Dragons and their Care.

She found the Directors office pleasantly rustic and warm, thankful to be out of the cold February. Within the small office was a tiny desk with various books with the word dragon in the title, sketches of different breeds and anatomies. A tiny wood stove radiated heat from the corner, stacks of newspapers and magazines were haphazardly strewn across a long in table. Brea settled into a worn wooden chair next to the stove and waited for the Director to arrive.

A painting on the wall opposite her caught her attention and she raised to inspect. A silver dragon flying about a sparking sea.

The door to the office snapped open with a gust of late winter wind and a small elderly woman strode in with purpose.

“Sure is windy today. Dragons being restless and whipping up some gust themselves ain’t helpin much. What cha got for me youngin?” She rasped out and leaned over the desk, riffling through the stacks of papers.

“Pardon me, are you the Director?” Brea asked, stepping away from the painting.

The older woman looked over a set of large glasses perched on her nose and grinned.

“That I am. Bridgette Landers but just call me Bridge. You here lookin for a job?”

Brea smiled softly and shook her head.

“No madam, perhaps in another life though, it would be a pleasure to give dragons a safe haven. I’m here about a similar matter however.” Brea slipped off her cloak, setting it atop the newspapers and opened her bag. With careful movements she pulled out five brilliant red and gold eggs and set each on the desk before a wide eyed Bridge.

“Holy Moses and the River Nile girly! Where did you come across five fireballs?” Bridge exclaimed and pushed her bespectacled face closer in order to inspect each one.

“I’m a traveler you see and in my travels I hear things. One of these things I heard led me to a trafficking of dragons and I managed to find the funds to secure these little ones their safety and then promptly brought them here with the hopes that you would accept them.”

“Alright, alright… no need to bat those eyes. We’ve plenty of room for them. Stay here while I go find someone to come wrangle the little beasties from you. I want to ask more about this dragon trafficking ring you stumbled onto.”

“Of course, anything I can do to help.” Brea said with a nod and watched as Bridge opened the door and leaned out into the wind.

“Hey anyone seen Dragon Bait lately?” Bridge bellowed, her voice surprisingly boisterous for someone so small.

When she didn’t receive a reply she looked over her shoulder toward Brea.

“I’ll return. Just give me a sec to track down the rascal.” And she was gone, slamming the door behind her.

Brea had just returned to her seat by the stove when the door slammed open again.

“Bridge? Jess said you were calling for me- oh well hello there. You are definitely not Bridge.”

 Brea’s eyes snapped from the flickering flames to the newcomer. Familiar red hair, freckles and scars.

“What can I do for you Damsel?”

In that moment Brea was her eleven year old self being carried through Grimmould after just learning her link to some wild destiny and her family’s tragic history, already in girlish love with the roguish dragon tamer. Blinking back a sheen of tears she noticed the difference in this Charlie Weasley to the Charlie who had held her while she’d wept for her family.

He was younger for one, his face had a full and healthy glow and blue eyes shined with humor.

“Are you the one they call… Dragon Bait?” Brea asked and stood.

Charlie rolled his eyes with a groan.

“Call me Charlie please.”

“Charlie… right. I believe Ms Bridge was going to hand over these eggs into your care.” Brea waved toward the eggs.

“Merlin’s drawers, you brought these? How did you come across them? Uh and I didn’t get your name…”

“Stacy Rose. Not Damsel.” Brea said pleasantly, the lie rolling from her tongue easily.

Charlie looked slightly abashed.

“Sorry about that. Not really sure why I called you er… trust me I’m not in the habit of calling witches something so-“

He stopped when Brea chuckled.

“It’s perfectly alright Charlie.”

“I’m a bit skittish about insulting women, what with my younger sister Ginny and my mother. They would have hexed me if they heard me call you ‘Damsel’.”

“Charlie! It’s fine!” Brea said with a touch of annoyance. She was beginning to feel uncomfortable having stayed in his company for so long. The longer they were together, the more he would have a fresh memory of her.

“Right- um would you like to see the hatchery?”

Brea felt a yearning to say yes.

“I’m afraid I need to tell them my good byes here.” Brea turned away to gather her belongings but stopped when her gaze caught the painting again.

“That’s a silver wing. Went extinct ages ago. Bridge claims this painting was of the last one, passed down from Ridgebit, the founder of this sanctuary.”

“Fascinating.” Brea whispered.

“Sure is.”

Brea quickly began to slip her cloak on when her gaze was attracted to one of the newspapers on the table. The bold headline caused her heart to freeze before a swift wave of rage had her gritting her teeth. It was with force that she kept her movements slow and calm.

Charlie noticed her pulling her wand free of her cloak pocket.

“Wait weren’t you going-“ he paused when the witch disappeared with a light pop “to say goodbye?”

“There you are Dragon Bait!” Bridge exclaimed as she stomped into the office. “Wait, where’s the girl?”

Charlie turned wide eyes to the woman.

“I couldn’t say. She was looking at the painting of the silver wing then just left without another word. Didn’t even say goodbye to me or the babies.”

Bridge narrowed her eyes.

“Pretty curious. Be that as it may, let’s get these little rascals settled in and then I want to pick your brain about something. Dragon trafficking. I think we’ve got a bigger problem than mysterious disappearing witches.”

* * *

 

Brea appeared outside the village at a discreet distance and stomped her way back to her boat. Down in the cabin she whipped off her cloak and bag, slamming them angrily into her hammock and continued to pace the small room.

“How dare him! My life’s work- my bloody fucking purpose for even being alive! And he thinks he gets to mess it all up… what day is it Gred?” Brea snapped angrily and began to riffle through shelves until she found a calendar. “The last known day was… what April third? We need to be at that platform tomorrow…”

* * *

 

The next evening found an exhausted Brea sitting on a bench nearest the entry to Platform 9 ¾. She’d spent the last twenty-four hours draining her strength on flying her ship through the sky. The charms to keep a sailboat, invisible, aloft and traveling quickly was no easy task. But her diligence had paid off and now she was looking for an appearance of one Lucius Malfoy.

As she sat there, in a world she hadn’t been a part of in quite some time, the memories of her past lives threatened to overwhelm her. To distract herself she fiddled with the button on cuff of her long sleeves, watching as people moved all around her.

That is until one particular woman caught her attention. She had wonderful chocolate hair pulled into a braid, matching eyes and even from the distance Brea could see the charming sprinkle of freckles dusting her nose. Suddenly the woman’s expression blossomed into a brightly lit smile.

“There’s my perfect girl! How was the start of the last term of school?” The sound of her voice confirmed without a doubt that she was who Brea remembered her to be. But it was the sight of her daughter that had her breath catching in her throat and pieces clicked into place like a rapid fire.

Brea watched them walk toward the platform exit, following the quick glance the girl sent over her shoulder and found Draco Malfoy watching them leave. He was standing alone giving Brea a new idea.

“Hello Draco.” She said quietly as she approached him.

He looked at her suspiciously.

“You. What are you doing here?”

Brea looked around.

“Is your family coming for you?”

“No, I informed my mother that I would make my own way home.”

“Will you come with me? I think we need to talk.”

When he answered her with a tight nod she stepped to his side, held tightly to his wrist, and brought him to the deck of her sailboat where it rested in a nearby harbor.

“I haven’t long so make it quick.” He said bluntly, looking around the little boat.

“Mind telling me why you’re being married off to Astoria Greengrass in less than a year?” Brea crossed her arms, anger radiating from her posture.

“I will not be marring her. If I can’t find a way to break the contract peacefully then I’ll just cut myself off from the family.”

Brea nodded with a gentler smile.

“I can respect that.”

Draco began to pace, frustration in his voice.

“I had been graciously granted time, time before the announcement, time before the actual wedding. And then without warning, Lucius announces it at Christmas.”

“How did Hermione take the news?”

Draco stopped pacing, his expression softening.

“Amazingly. Truly unique she is. A little peeved that I hadn’t told her myself but immediately she formed a battle plan.”

“And just what is the battle plan.”

“First step, find the girl I was originally contracted to marry. She and her mother disappeared early after birth. Finding her will break this contract. Then all I need is for her to call off the wedding and it’s done. I’ll be a free of my father’s schemes.”

Brea thought quickly and nodded. She had a different idea but she understood the younger wizards need to fix his life.

“Fascinating. I’ll help.”

“Why?”

“What is the name of your first fiancé?”

Draco frowned at Brea for ignoring his question.

“That… I don’t know.”

“Naturally. What is it you _do_ know?”

“All I know of her is that her mother is Helen Nott and she was born without magic. Hermione believes that this means she left the wizarding world.”

Brea closed her eyes.

“You should go ahead and go. I’ll be in contact if I find anything.”

Draco left a moment later, leaving Brea alone with her thoughts.

“I suppose we’re going to see about this house we own now Forge, and find a way shake some sense in to Lucius. I have the feeling he needs a good hex to the face along with a dose of reality.”

* * *

“Mums doing it again George!” Fred hollered to his brother. He was standing by one of the small windows to their flat above the shop, a freshly opened letter gripped with tense fingers torn between laughter and exasperation.

George who was in his room getting ready to take Angelina out to look at napkins or some such rubbish for their upcoming wedding or, poked his head through the doorway, as he buttoned a peacock blue waistcoat.

 “Who’s it this time?”

Fred crossed the sitting room to the cabinet with the fire whiskey, waving the letter in the air as he walked. “Absynthe Wortstung.”

 George snorted in laughter and closed his door, hopping as he slipped his shoes on. “She’s getting worse.”

 Fred groaned as he laid down on their worn leather couch, a short glass of fire whisky dangled from his hand.

“Aw c’mon why can’t you give ole Absynthe a chance?” George asked, enjoying his twins torment.

“I hate to be superficial but she has the worst set of teeth I’ve seen on a girl, too much on top not enough on bottom making her look like a hen, and should I mention her wart?”

 By now George was laughing heartily and Fred was waving his free hand in the air. “And if I wasn’t a single bit superficial have you actually met her? All she talks about is different things she has transfigured her hoard of rats into.” Fred ended his rant.

“All right I get it and I have met her, couldn’t tell you a single thing about her though.”

Fred nodded and laid there in silence a moment thinking about how pathetic it was he had to think up an excuse to his own mum not to give these witches a go. ‘It has been awhile…. Maybe….’ He was cut from his thoughts.

“Oh no no no no. I know that look!” George exclaimed.

Fred sat up eyes wide and innocent.

“What look?”

George pointed a finger at him and shook his head in amusement.

“The look that says you are considering going out just because it’s been awhile since you’ve had you some fun.”

Fred opened his mouth to declare his innocence but sighed grumpily at his all-knowing twin brothers raised eyebrow.

“Well not all of us have a fiancé at our beck and call.”

George laughed loudly once more and shook his head.

“If you think just because Angelina agreed to marry me that I get _that_ all the time think again. I probably get it even less now.”

Fred grinned “so why-?”

George shrugged.

“We live apart still and are busy. But when we get the chance its wonderful knowing that she chose me and trusts me to only choose her.”

Fred rolled his eyes as George became glassy eyed in love.

“Ok just keep it in your trousers mate. Mum had another request. We are to join her Sunday for Easter. Charlie is arriving then with news.”

George nodded. “Wonder what news he could have?”

“Not sure but you better get going or my future sister will be marrying into the family without you.” Fred said causing George to glance at the clock and scramble for the door leaving a chuckling Fred propping his feet on the coffee table and sipping his fire whiskey.

* * *

A few loose ends at the shop had George and Fred arriving barely in time. However they did walk through the door of their childhood home just in time to find the ramshackle house brimming and bustling with activity. Siblings and significant others were all chatting animatedly as they walked through the house, gathering chairs and table ware. Little four year old Molly sat in the corner explaining how her doll got her name to her Grandpapa Arthur.

 Angelina was already there and as soon as she kissed each twin on the cheek she was admonishing them on the time then tasking them with filling drinks for everyone.

“Have you seen Charlie yet?” George asked as he reached into a cabinet for more glasses.

Fred shook his head. “No but I think I hear him entertaining Harry and Ginny.”

Once everyone had pitched in, the entire family sat at the extended and very crowded table. Molly sat at her end of the table and knowing the dangers of sitting near her, Fred attempted to fight Ron for a seat closer to the opposite end. Their skirmish ended when a new family dinner invitee, Lavender Brown, sat in the seat instead and Ron took the rare victory he had against any of his siblings.

Fred slumped as he took the seat next to his mum, already knowing what was coming. However as dinner moved on, the conversation remained flowing and the stories were long. To Fred’s relief his mum didn’t hound him over settling down. In fact the more he thought about it the more he realized she hadn’t said a word to him. ‘She’s giving the bloody silent treatment.’ He realized after he purposely asked her if George had told her about their napkin shopping spree. And the maddening woman he called mum turned away and spoke to Harry whom was seat across from George. Fred could only sit in silent shock as realization that his own mum was ignoring him.

 His thoughts were interrupted when Charlie stood, bringing curious attention to himself.

“It’s great to see everyone. It’s been nearly a year since I was home last. Now that everyone has had a moment to eat and talk I wanted to make a quick announcement. I’m being transferred for an indefinite amount of time. I’m to be working with the ministry in tracking down a bit of dragon smuggling.”

 Everyone’s faces broke into wide smiles and Fred noticed the tears in his mum’s eyes.

“Oh Charlie how wonderful! You’ll stay in your old room just as always!”

Fred hid a grin as he watched Charlie shift uncomfortably.

“Actually Mum, since I’m going to be here potentially several months, I’m going to lease out a place of my own.”

Molly sniffed back her objections and arguments and instead simply gave Charlie a tight hug.

 A short time later after everyone had finished and cleared away the dishes, Fred sat outside with dear little Molly seated in his lap, watching the stalks of grain that surrounded his childhood home sway. Most everyone was outside and he listened distractedly as Percy conversed with Fleur. Giving advice on raising a child and how Audrey was returning to work as soon as a suitable tutor or nanny or governess or whatever they were called, could be found.

 Fred found it strange that for once he was the loner here, no longer the center of attention.

“Alright Uncle Freddy?” Molly asked.

Fred put on his ‘I’m your favorite uncle smile.’

“Of course I am pumpkin juice. “

“Look sad.”

“How could I possibly be sad? I have a full tummy, the best family and a ticklish niece.” He said while giving her a light tickle on her ribs. After her giggles quieted Charlie spoke up from behind them and ruffled Molly’s bouncy red curls.

“I bet the problem with old Uncle Fred here is he’s realizing his kingdom is a bit boring lately.”

 Fred rolled his eyes and begun to defend himself but Molly was all over it.

 “He needs a fairy princess Uncle Charlie!”

Charlie nodded thoughtfully. “What do you suppose this fairy princess will look like Miss Molly?”

 Molly’s little freckled face wrinkled in thought. “She will be the most beautiful girl in the land. Long hair like cold snow, and eyes that can turn gold.”

 Fred noticed Charlie frowning slightly before hiding it with another smile for their niece.

“Hmm sounds like a fairy princess. What will she _be_ like oh wise great seer?”

 Molly grinned.

“Easy. She’s an adventurer. Which means her will be courageous and will have already probably most likely saved the whole wide world.”

Fred amusement was growing and he was beginning to play along.

“Well Molly this sounds like a very special fairy princess. When do I get to meet her?”

Molly fell silent and studied the hair on her doll before looking up again. “It’ll be very soon Uncle Fred. Her sails are full.”

Fred lifted eyes to Charlie that said he had no idea what to say to that and Charlie’s look said he agreed.

”Well where has she been all this time?”

Molly frowned. “First she was fighting for the world. Now she’s been running from it. But she’s not running anymore.”

What had started out as a game had turned into something suspicious and that was something serious when it came to the wizarding world.

Charlie cleared his throat.

“Hey Molly I was coming over to invite Uncle Fred to some Quidditch.”

At Fred’s nod Molly hopped down and left to see what the barn cats were doing. The two brothers stood and watched her go.

“That turned odd.” Charlie said.

“I’ll bet fifty galleons she just told Fred his future. Who’s in?” George said from next to his brothers, startling them both.

“Oh c-mon-“ Fred started to protest but word quickly spread through the family  and Weasleys seem to never resist a bet. Not even Fred when the bets about him. “Oh hell. Its rubbish so count me in. There is _not_ a fairy princess on her way to help me rule my _kingdom_.”

 


	56. The Day it Rained...

                                                       

Hands clenched and twisted in apprehension, clutching folds of dark blue material. Shoulders were stiff and footsteps quick. Panic over nothing was irrational but the fear of coming into contact with anyone from her past was eating away at Brea’s nerves. If she were to be faced with what she had done she wanted it to be on her terms.

She had to be the one in control.

Marching through Diagon Alley for Gringotts where at any moment an achingly familiar face could appear and see through her with indifference, was definitely not having control. Luckily she’d been familiar enough with the cobbled street to apparate near the ancient bank. With the hour still early in the morning there were few around.

Just as her memory served, the goblins where down to business when she’d requested a conversion of all the currency she had left from her travels. After paying the ransom for the dragon eggs she didn’t have hardly enough for another week or so of food.

Brea sighed as she stared down at the bank note in one hand and the deed in the other.

‘Let’s see if we can’t find you and then track down one infuriating cousin.’ Brea thought before following the address numbers down the street.

The sight of a certain joke shop, which brought relief that this little bit of her past remained unchanged, also had her hesitating to continue but it couldn’t be helped for across the street from the shop was the vaguely familiar old house numbered on the deed.

It was a terribly old house made of age clouded glass, wood that had once been painted white, and rusted wrought iron detailing. A small path overgrown with weeds led to crumbling stone steps and a century’s worn door.

Brea felt her heart melting at the sight and the first smile she’d managed since leaving the dragon eggs behind with Charlie spread across her lips. Holding her skirt and cloak in one hand Brea stepped quickly into the house. Early morning light filtered in through the dusty windows revealing dust and cobwebs on every surface.

It didn’t matter to her that the floor and staircase were missing whole sections, the plumbing looked like something out of late Victorian, the gas lights were useless and the ceiling was water stained. All that mattered to her was that she felt like she belonged in this heap of broken glass, rotting wood, and rusted iron.

The house reminded her of herself.

A great story but damaged beyond repair.

‘Oh don’t be so melodramatic Fox. What would Martha say to such depressing thoughts…’ Brea thought to herself and sighed. ‘She wouldn’t say anything because in this life, she’s never known me. That is never will.’

She stomped her heeled boot in frustration.

“Stop it you wench! You haven’t time to think like that!” she growled out and set about exploring her new home for however long she could stand it.

The main floor was open, with a wall of windows facing the cobbled stoned street. A fireplace in the back looked to be the only place to cook. Upstairs had three bedrooms, two of which were usable. It seemed the floor in the third was in serious threat of falling in at any moment. Each room had windows and a terrace.

It was with glee that Brea declared the room with a view of the small overgrown yard her own. To her delight there was tightly spiraling iron staircase leading to a widow’s walk.

For all appearances it seemed to be just an ordinary old house, empty of all furnishing. It was a mystery as to why it had been such a big deal that it had been lost in a hand of cards.

Instinct told Brea that she was missing something but excitement won over and she brushed the feeling away.

Gingerly pulling Gred from her pocket she held the only constant in her life close to her chest.

“What do you think Forge? Shall we give her a name? We’ve already had a _Fox Den_.” Brea stood in the center of the bottom floor watching the dust move through the beams of sunlight. “I say this feels more like a _Fox Snuggery_. Ah yes I quite like that one. Now then how does one procure honest funds here? I don’t imagine there’s enough poker and bounty hunts to fill our cupboards.” The little creature in her hands wiggled.

“There’s always my old job at the trinket shop. Could you imagine that? Hmmm never fear Gred, I’ll think of something. In the meantime let’s get to finding Lucius.”

* * *

 

“It’s your turn to take out the trash _Fred_.” George said with a deep scowl leveled on his twin counterpart.

“What a load _George_! I took it out last… on a…” Fred paused with his eyes on the ceiling, struggling to put a date on his last time to clean the bins.

“Hah! See it’s been so long that you can’t even remember. Bins. Now.”

“I can so remember! It was a Monday.”

George rolled his eyes.

“Yeah how about three Mondays ago. Taking the trash out often prevents the entire building from smelling like rancid stew and your feet.”

It was now Fred’s turn to roll his eyes.

“Look how bloody domesticated you are. ‘Take the rash out Fred or the house will smell. Don’t track your muddy boots on the clean floor Fred.’ _You know_ , you sound an awful lot like Mum.”

George snapped his hands to his hips in a way that was part their mother and part their older brother Percy.

“ _You know_ you would do well to learn a thing or two from me and Mum. Now take the trash out or else.”

Fred mirrored George with his hands on his hips.

“Or what?”

“Or I won’t share any of Angelina’s cooking with you. Ever. Again.”

Fred huffed and crossed his arms over his chest.

“George be reasonable.”

George glared stubbornly, causing Fred to feel a prickle of panic. He could brew anything anyone wanted so long as it involved a cauldron. Put him in front of a stove and he was lost. Just when he began to consider giving in a thought occurred to him and a sly smile spread across his lips.

“And I’ll tell Mum, she’ll take my side in understanding pity and refuse to feed you as well.” George said.

Fred’s smile slipped and he growled in irritation. Spinning on his heel and took his wand from his pocket and began to stomp toward the kitchen.

“Without magic!” George demanded and Fred spun back around to face him.

“Why not!” he shouted.

“Because I want you to spend some one on one time with that smell. Then you’ll appreciate the nice clean scent of a trash free house and will be more willing to pull you weight around here!” George shouted back.

“But it’s raining!”

“Good! You’re in need of a brisk cleaning as much as the bins are!”

Fred jammed his wand back into his trouser pocket and grumbled out snide remarks to himself about his suddenly husband material brother. He paused inside the small kitchen entry and sniffed the air, cringing at the rancid smell that assaulted him. He pulled the collar of his shirt up over his nose and quickly tied the bin liner, carrying the bag as far from his body as he could.

“Okay… so maybe it really did need to be taken out sooner… Not that I’ll tell that bastard.” Fred muttered to himself.

Moving quickly through the back door and ignoring the gentle rainfall, he walked toward the metal can and dropped the trash in with a clank and waited for it to magically disappear.

“I wonder where it all goes.” He said thoughtfully, thinking back on the countless times he had watched the very same can empty itself. Eventually he shrugged and took the moment to enjoy the rain falling on his face.

The day was well under way with Verity covering the slower late morning shift in the shop. Giving George time to order him about with chores when he’d rather be in the brew room. Fred considered sneaking away from the shop for an early lunch lest he get stuck with something else dreadful like the wash.

He took a deep sigh and opened his eyes to a curious sight.

There across the street was a woman- well he supposed the figure was that of a woman, for he could see a long skit of faded material layered beneath a dark cloak. He supposed there could be a man in the skirt but until he learned otherwise he’d stick to woman. Naturally the hood was pulled up, concealing their identity. That alone wasn’t what was curious. No, the figure was knelt in front of the abandoned house, the old metal fence to be specific.

She looked to have her wand out but from the distance he couldn’t quite make out what she was doing.

Fred took several steps toward the street in order to get a better look. Several people strolled by, their attention on the woman but they looked away in whispers once they passed by.

He had just reached the street side when she froze. Fred couldn’t tell you why but he froze as well, mid step.

After a short moment the hood turned towards him and Fred felt his heart begin to pound. The woman’s face was entirely shrouded by the hood with only a few handfuls of white tangled hair falling onto hunched shoulders.

Fred’s foot dropped to the ground and he swallowed, looking for something to say to the creepy woman. A shiver ran down his spine and the hair on his neck stood as if lighting were in the air.

“Er… just cleaning the bins ya know.” He said lamely.

A vaguely familiar man passing by stopped to stare at him with a sneer then with a haughty snap of his cane on the cobble stones and swish of his black robes he continued to pass by. Fred looked toward the old witch to find, much to his relief, that her attention was no longer on him but he watched with interest as she slowly stood, the hood now watching the snobbish wizard stride away with his head held high.

Before Fred could think of something else to say in order to escape the awkward situation, the witch followed after the wizard. Fred felt his jaw drop when she grabbed then man by the arm and pulled him into the alley between the crumbling house and a second-hand bookshop.

Fred shook his wet hair out of his eyes and quickly moved to kneel between the house and an overgrown shrub, deftly pulling an extendable ear out of his pocket. With his wand he slowly moved the extension around the corner and settled for a listen.

_“I wondered if you’d received my message.” Snobby said in a snobby voice._

_“Have you lost all sense? Are you truly going to undo everything I- I’ve fought for?” Creepy said in a strangely attractive voice._

  _“Please do not exaggerate cousin. Your work is not done-“_

_“It is done! I have given everything-“_

_“And you must give more I’m afraid. They demand it.”_

_“And what have you given lately Lucius? You want my help? Then you will give me something in return this time.”_

‘Lucius? As in Malfoy?’ Fred briefly wondered.

_“And what does the little fox demand for her services.”_

Fred could hear the tightness in Snobbie’s voice.

_“You’re going to disintegrate that contract. Today. The moment you step inside your house.”_

Fred could feel the anger in the heavy silence and wished he could see the stare off that must be happening around the corner.

_“Agreed.”_

Fred could hear footsteps coming toward him.

_“She’s Helen Nott’s daughter. I’m sure if anything were to ever come of it, she will have your full support. Am I correct?”_

Snobby didn’t reply but left the alley in silence and Fred pressed himself against the rotting wall, his knees beginning to ache. He waited for the old hag to pass by and listened for her footsteps.

He felt horror freeze his breath when the pointed boots stopped in front of him and he slowly followed the skirt and cloak up to the darkness looking down on him, sleeves covered her hands, with only a wand poking through and pointed at his nose.

“The bins yea?” he managed to get out, blinking against the rain before falling backwards into the grass and mud. He immediately stood and rushed to shove the ears back in his pocket and whistled as he walked back toward the shop, fighting the urge to check over his shoulder.

“George! George!” Fred yelled over and over as he scrambled up the stairs.

“Blimey where have you been Fred? Is that- mud? No mud!” George shouted.

“Oh shut it on the mud and listen! Look!” Fred called as he peeked through one of the curtains, a quick scan of the house across the street showed zero evidence of an occupant. George followed Fred’s lead and lifted the opposite side of the curtain.

“What am I looking at?”

“The weirdest thing just happened! So I’m taking the trash out like you demanded, sounding just like Mum or Percy, by the way. So after I take it out I’m wondering ‘where does it all go?’ Ya know? And then there, across the street in front of that- that ugly old house, kneeling in a puddle was this incredibly horrifying old witch! Doing something with her wand- something evil I bet. Anyways she saw me watching and stopped what she was doing but then Lucius Malfoy- you know the rich bastard from the papers? He walked by and imagine my surprise when creepy grabbed the bloke by the arm and yanked him into that alley right there! Awfully shady business if you ask me so you know me, I’ve always got a pair of extendables on me, so I run up and conceal myself by the bush and use the extendables to listen in. Weird conversation, they seem to be cousins, something about hiring her for a job if he sets fire to some contract. Oh! And someone is Helen Nott’s daughter. So what cha think. Weird shady business ya?” Fred took a deep gasp for breath and looked over at his wide eyed brother.

“Oh look! The sign says room for let! We should let Charlie know.” George said brightly.

“Wha-?” Fred looked back toward the house. There hanging on the dilapidated fence was a broken board with the words “ROOM FOR LET” burned into it. “We can’t let Charlie live there!”

George looked at Fred in surprise. “Why ever not?”

Fred’s expression was incredulous.

“Di-did you _not_ hear a word of what I just told you? Shady old hag, creepy Lucius Malfoy business? Not to mention the roof looks ready to fall in any moment.”

George grinned.

“Charlie literally wrestles dragons for a living. I’m sure he’s capable of handling creepy rich blokes and old witches. C’mon let’s go inquire before someone else does.”

Fred followed George down the stairs and into the street. At the fence George nudged Fred toward the door.

“This sounds like a terrible idea.” Fred muttered.

“I’m sorry but did you leave your sense of adventure back in Filches office.” George arched a brow.

“Alright, alright! No need to go for the balls. I’ll just pop into the house, putting myself in dangers path, ask a creepy lady if my older brother can come move in.” Fred grumbled, blinking against the rain to stare up at the windows on the second floor.

George nudged Fred with his shoulder and nodded toward the door.

“Right O. If she tries to attack you- you know… scream or something.”

Fred rolled his eyes and straightened his shoulders. The old door wobbled when he knocked but stayed put.

There was no answer.

With a steady hand Fred twisted the rusty door knob and slowly opened the door, wincing as the hinges gave an awful series of pops.

“Hell-ooo.” He called when he stuck his head inside the house. He found the condition of the inside was decidedly worse than the outside, though he wasn’t terribly surprised.

“What is keeping this place together?” he whispered to himself.

The silence was deafening and the emptiness of the house felt odd and lonely. After a moment of stillness Fred’s ears picked up the crackle and pop of a fire. Following the sound toward the back of the house Fred stopped at the sight of the old witch, still wrapped in her cloak. She was hunched in front of the fire, prodding it with what looked like a piece of metal from the fence.

“Did you track mud into my _home?_ ” the witch asked in a quiet voice.

Fred looked down at his boots and noticed the mud still smeared on them from before.

“Sorry about that and sorry for um barging in but I’d like to inquire about the room to let.”

The witch straightened slightly and the hood turned toward him slightly. The strange sensation of lightning moved across his skin. To ease the feeling he used his fingers to comb the wet hair out of his eyes.

“Have you an occupation?”

Fred had to lean forward slightly in order to hear the whispered words.

“Huh? No. I mean yes! Yes, I have an occupation. I co-own the shop across the street with my brother. We’re twins by the way and I wanted to apologize for the way he spied on your conversation. He’s a bit of a gossiper and couldn’t wait to tell me all about it.” Fred paused for breath. “I wasn’t asking for myself, my brother actually needs a place to stay for a bit. Not my twin brother, another brother. I have five of them. But not all five would be moving in. Just one.”

“I see. And does _he_ have an occupation as well?”

Fred began to feel more comfortable in the old house and strolled over to the staircase, looking up around the railing.

“Certainly. Working with the Ministry on some investigation at the present. So how much does one of your lovely rooms cost?”

“So long as he fills the cupboard with food, I consider the rent paid.”

Fred looked over his shoulder in suspicion.

“That’s… generous. Tell me, how long have you owned this glorious manor?” He muttered to which he received no reply.

“Right then, I’ll just hop on over to let him know the good news.”

Again, he received no reply other than the slow bow of the witches’ hood. Feeling dismissed, Fred quickly retraced his steps through the empty house to find George still waiting in the street with a conjured umbrella.

Fred joined him under the umbrella and shivered as he looked back at the old house.

“Well? Slytherin got your tongue? How’d it go?” George asked excitedly.

“It’s creepier inside than it is outside. Completely empty unless you count the dust, cobwebs, and mice.”

George waved a hand is dismissal.

“That’s Charlie’s problem. So? Shall we pay Verity overtime and go pop on over and tell our not-as-handsome- brother the good news?”

Fred felt the inklings of a good prank bringing his good humor back and he smiled back at George.

“Oh we shall.”

Two matching grins apparated outside their childhood home.

“Charlie! We’ve news!” Fred shouted as they stomped into the Burrow.

“Wait, the mud.” George muttered and began to toe off his sneakers.

Fred groaned.

“Seriously? Again with the mud? I’m telling you mate this whole getting married business has me concerned for your sanity... and mine.”

“Someday, you’ll meet a woman, and then you’ll understand.”

“What’s this I hear about Fred meeting a woman?” Charlie asked from the nearby staircase.

“George is just spouting nonsense about women hating mud. We all know Mum adores mud decorating the floors. And Ginny used to _eat_ it. Anyways we’ve good news!”

“There’s a house across the street from us with a room for rent-“

“-and all you have to pay is for food in the cabinets-“

“-and ready for you to move in right now-

“-all you need to do is stroll on in-“

“-and introduce yourself-“

“Brilliant eh?”

Charlie held up his hands in surrender.

“Alright, I get it. Have you met the landlord?”

George dropped a heavy hand on Fred’s shoulder.

“Fred here has.”

“Indeed I have. Land _lady_ though if you know what I mean.”

Fred bounced his eyebrows before looking over Charlies shoulder.

“Mum! Charlie found a place to move into-“

“-he’ll be back later to pick up his bags-“

“-nope never mind-“

“-he was already packed and-“

“-simply summoned his trunk-“

Charlie rolled his eyes and shoved his younger brothers out the door, George hopping on one foot as he struggled to slip his shoe back on. Fred simply shook his head at him and tutted.

“See this is why it just isn’t sensible to take off muddy shoes. You never know when you’ll get tossed out into the mud.”

A moment later Charlie stood in silence between his brothers.

“I’m being pranked right now aren’t I?”

“Of course not dear-“

“-older brother!”

“It’s under new ownership- bit of a fixer upper is all.”

“And it’ll be a riot having you as our neighbor. Angelina cooks a mean pasta.”

“Well then go on. Invite us over when you’re all moved in!”

“Well we really must be getting back. Well past our lunch hour and Verity must be steaming by now.”

And with jaunty salutes the twins left Charlie squinting at the old house wondering what his brothers got him in to.

* * *

 

“There you go Mr. Forge. Enjoy toasting your nose by the fire.” Brea whispered as she settled Gred near the stone hearth. The little pygmy puff snuggled into her worn and faded Gryffindor scarf that she had placed on the floor.

The popping sound of the door hinges echoing through the house followed by heavy footsteps alerted Brea to a new intruder and she pulled the hood of her cloak up to obscure her face. It was quickly becoming a habit.

Brea remained standing before the fire as the footsteps approached through the empty house.

“Your room is up the stairs and to the left. Enter the one on the right at your own peril and entry to the room facing the alley is forbidden. Otherwise you may do as you like so long as you can cook.”

“Right then. May I introduce myself? My name is Charlie We-“

Brea brushed past him, her hands holding her hood secure and left the house. Her encounter with one of the Weasley twins, Lucius, and now Charlie moving in had Brea on the edge of panic.

“You’re mad Fox. Of course the moment you step foot back in London, you find yourself tangled with the Weasleys’. Why did you think this was a good idea?” Brea muttered to herself, staring up the shop across from her. Her heart was beating fast and her clenched fists were shaking.

The light rain from before began to pour in earnest.

“Again you’re being dramatic. No one remembers you- so what? Now go find a job.”

The walk to the Leaky Cauldron was wet to the point the damp seeped through her cloak causing her to shiver.

True to memory the restaurant was the same as it always was, dimly lit and crowded with witches and wizards of all ages, none of which paid her any mind. Near to her right stood an old message board with various fliers and notices posted over the years, none of which held an agreeable help wanted advert.

Sighing Brea slipped off her dripping cloak and went to the counter and ordered coffee and poured heaping amounts of sugar and cream.

After a moment of stirring the hot brew, a wizard seated near Brea stood, leaving behind a newspaper. Trying to look inconspicuous, she slid the paper toward her and moved her coffee to a table in the back of the tavern. Once settled she skipped the main stories for the classifieds in the back.

At first glance nothing looked terribly promising and Brea began to honestly consider muggle employment, that or lying about her qualifications on reporting or book keeping. Using a pencil from her bag she began to slash through anything the involved a desk.

Brea sighed deeply.

“Maybe I’m just being too picky.” She muttered.

“I remember you.” Charlie spoke from beside her, startling Brea to the point where she reached for her wand resting next to her coffee.

“Woah there! Just me. Just your new tenant.” Charlie said with raised hands and a flashing smile.

Brea frowned but lowered her wand.

“I promise not to ask any questions. But I’ll let you now I followed you from the house, call it curiosity.”

Brea pressed her lips together and tried not to snap at Charlie for invading her privacy. Instead she watched as he slid into the seat across from her, his eyes on the newspaper.

“Looking for a job? Any luck?”

Brea shifted her eyes away from his.

“You promised no questions.”

Charlie ignored her and snapped his fingers.

“I’ve just the thing. How are you with kids?”

Brea thought quickly, she supposed the last time she’d had any interaction with a child had been when she lived at the orphanage.

“I know you can talk” Charlie said archly.

“I suppose I’m alright with them.”

Charlie grinned.

“Come with me. And put your cloak back on.”

Brea looked at her half empty cup.

“But my coffee-“

She was cut off when Charlie stood and snatched up her cloak.

“No time for that. Come along then.”

Brea didn’t budge.

“I promise to buy a months’ worth of coffee just for you.”

Bear curled her upper lip but stood, snatching her cloak back from him.

“There better be creamer and sugar included in that deal.”

“Naturally.” Charlie said and spun on his heel, conjuring an umbrella before holding it out toward Brea.

Brea stubbornly ignored him and lifted her still damp hood, glad that the rain had reduced to a steady mist.

Charlie shrugged and led the way back down the street toward the house. Brea’s curiosity grew until it froze abruptly, along with her feet.

Charlie had led her to Weasley Wizarding Wheezes and there in the window was a little crooked sign with “help wanted” scrawled across it.

“I am not working here.” She said quietly and turned away.

Charlie set a hand on Breas shoulder, not expecting her to violently flinch away.

“It’ll be a riot working here. The twins are great fun. You already met them!”

Brea opened her mouth to refuse when two things happened. First, her stomach growled, reminding her that it had been ages since she ate anything. The second, there was an explosion from somewhere in the depths of the weezes, followed by loud laughter.

“It’ll be an adventure, you’ll see.”

The sounds coming from the shop brought a small smile to her lips. Before she could change her mind she hurried past Charlie and opened the door.

“Boy-Os!” Charlie called after following Brea inside.

“Charlie! So how’s life with the creepy hag?” A voice called one of the twins from a stair case.

Brea was focused on all the wonderful things the twins had created and chose to ignore the insult. Charlie however laughed loudly as well as a couple of young shopper’s home for the holiday.

“Her name is Stacy Rose and she’s in need a job.”

“Er Charlie, I’m sure she’s going to scare the children away-“ either Fred or George, Brea couldn’t be certain which, but she knew it was the one who had spied on her and Lucius earlier that day, stopped short in the middle of the staircase, his blue eyes wide and shocked as they locked on her.

The curious sensation of electricity prickled Brea but she pushed it to the back of her mind as the laughter coming from Charlie told Brea that this was the reaction from his little brother that he had been hoping for.

“Charlie can I have a word?” Fred or George said with a false smile.

 “Now Fred, I think that would be imp-“

Five years ago Brea would have enjoyed the good humor, even at her own expense, but she’d had her fill of the awful day. Glaring hotly at the brothers she roughly pulled her hood from covering her head.

 “I’ve had just about enough of this. I have been spied on, rained on, mud tracked through my new house, my coffee forcefully abandoned, called names and laughed at. I’m exhausted from traveling. I honestly cannot remember the last time I ate, I’m wet and I’m cold.” Brea felt herself beginning to lose control of her emotions and felt the sting of tears she was not prepared to let fall. “You don’t know what it’s- you can’t possibly know what this is costing me.”

Brea sucked in a deep breath, despising the pitying look Charlie leveled on her. But it was the light in Fred’s eyes, the slow grin of excitement that forced her to close her eyes tightly.

“ _If_ you two are quite finished, I’ll be letting myself out.”

Struggling to hold herself with the regal bearing of a queen, Brea opened the door before pausing and looking over her shoulder at the silent brothers.

“And I lied to you before, in Romania. My name is not Stacy Rose, so no, you don’t know me.” She snapped before closing the shop door soundly. The moment she left the shops last step she apparated to only other place she could go to escape.

Brea appeared on a familiar high grassy cliff overlooking a stormy sea. It was with shaking legs and gasping breaths she fell to her knees before the pristine grave marker watching over Tom Riddle.

Time escaped Brea as she knelt there in the damp grass. She couldn’t find the words to express the ache she felt. Instead she took comfort in the setting sun, in the sound of the waves, and the familiarity of being alone.

The west long ago welcomed the sun when she began to pick up the pieces of her scattered emotions.

“It’s been too long hasn’t it Tom? This is what they mean when they say terrible things happen to those who meddle with time… I’m no longer the girl I was when… well just when.” Brea fought back her tears and took a deep breath. “I thought I was done running. I’m supposed to be brave yea? I’m not though, I don’t think I ever will be.”

Brea lifted her eyes to the stars.

“This time I think I’ll go somewhere cold, and a time far away. When the world was bigger.”

Brea slowly pushed herself to her feet.

“I need to rescue a friend first. As always Tom… your company was stimulating and missed.”

* * *

 

Silence followed the angry witch from the shop, leaving a wide eyed Fred and Charlie staring after her long after she disappeared.

“What did I miss?” George piped in as he pushed his way past Fred on the stairs, his arms loaded with tiny boxes.

“Charlie was that-“

“Uh-huh.”

“And I just-“

“Royally.”

Fred took a deep breath and swiped a hand roughly down his face.

“Someone wanna fill me in or what?” George grunted and dropped his burden on the main counter.

Fred stumbled down the remaining stairs and dropped his head onto the counter next to the boxes. After a sigh he banged his head on the counter several times.

“Stupid, stupid.” He said with each thud.

George looked at Charlie for an explanation and watched as Charlie rested his arm across Fred’s hunched back and grinned.

“Oh I think I’m now- what was the pot at? Oh yes… fifty galleons richer.”

George’s jaw dropped as Fred groaned.

“You don’t mean… Little M’s prophecy was true? Well hell! Where is the poor witch?”

Fred groaned again and Charlie’s arm slipped from his back with the force of his laughter.

“Sh-she is m-m-“ Charlie paused to get control of his laughter. “My roommate.”

George’s eyes widened.

“Oh you poor bastard. You’re fated to fall in love with that creepy old witch in the creepy old house across the street who does creepy old things?”

“No George you- you don’t understand. It gets better. Tell him Fred.”

“She’s amazing. She’s fire and, and, and ice, and lighting. And I called her-“ Fred’s muffled voice paused.

Charlie lifted his brows.

“Go on Fred, what did you call the love of your life?”

“I- I called her a creepy hag to her face.”

“And…”

“And that she would scare the children if she took a job here.”

Fred let his head fall on the counter a few more times as George fell to the floor in laughter.

“But in my defense she _was_ all creepy like with her hood pulled up all the time. Why do you think she did that?”

“Why about you ask her that hmm? Go on finish telling Georgie the list of grievances against our future sister in law.”

“I spied on her. And tracked mud through her house.”

George stopped laughing long enough to stare at Fred.

“Shut it George, I know what you’re thinking. But Charlie dragged her away from her coffee!”

George grinned.

“Charlies not the one who’s in trouble.”

Fred suddenly straightened and leveled a stare on Charlie.

“What did she mean by before in Romania?”

Charlie grinned and shrugged.

“You got yourself a weird one. Several days before I came back home, she waltzes into the Directors office at the reserve, loaded with five dragon eggs. Drops the name Stacy Rose and then disappears without a by your leave. The description Little M gave of her fit her perfectly but I never imagined it would actually be her.”

George held his hand up to Fred who pulled his brother to his feet.

“So her name is Stacy Rose?”

Fred shook his head and moved to stand at the shop window to stare toward the dark house.

“No. After she lit into us for our horribleness she admitted to Charlie that she had lied about her name. How am I supposed to go about fixing this?”

George joined his brother and rested a hand on his shoulder.

“I would start with the mud. Charlie can help me out here.”

“Actually I think I’ll commandeer your couch as well. Not of stick of furniture in that old place.”

George nudged Fred toward the door.

 “Open for a bit of a suggestion Fred? I’d clean the mud and then I’d feed her. Everyone knows a woman is more willing to listen to a man’s groveling after she’s had a bite to eat.”

* * *

 

‘Mum would be impressed.’ Fred thought a short time later as he surveyed his work. His muddy prints had been whisked away by magic, the fire built up and a plate from the Leaky Cauldron piled high with a thick chicken drumstick, potatoes, buttered squash. In addition there was a thick slice of chocolate pie and a cup of coffee. 

He’d sat the food on the floor next to the little pygmy puff, settled himself cross legged and pondered just what he would say in order to snare himself another chance.

The hour grew late along with Fred’s hunger. Eventually he ate most of the squash, shared a bite with the pygmy puff and laid down on the floor. When his one sided conversations with the woman’s pet ran dry he drifted into a light sleep.

The sound of the door hinges woke Fred some time later. Rather than letting his alertness be known he kept his eyes narrowed and breathing even.

Fred recognized relief that it was her, she had come back. He listened to rustling before feeling the warm weight of a thin blanket settling over him. 

Fred took that as a promising sign and he realized that if he weren’t already head over heels he would be now and resolved to wait for the perfect moment to ‘wake up’.

There was more rustling then silence.

Fred slowly opened one eye, saw only emptiness and sat up quickly.

The pygmy puff, the chicken, and the coffee were all gone. And so was the witch.

He looked toward the door and saw the billow of fabric sweep through.

“No, no, no.” Fred whispered in panic and rushed to his feet, racing after her.

Fred stumbled to an abrupt stop, his eyes widened in amazement.

The witch stood in the center of the dark street, her wand in one hand and the chicken leg in the other, facing a large jagged… opening through which snow whipped and whirled. Even from the distance Fred could feel his bones chilling.

‘It would be madness to go in there with a blizzard like that!’ Fred thought.

And then in is where she went.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	57. Swiftly Swinging Swords

 

 

Amber eyes roved over the almost empty landscape. Gone were the highly built shops and homes of Diagon Alley. No longer were there any street lamps or cobbled stones.

Only a shining sun, snow, and trees.

Brea felt her stomach again clench painfully. Remembering the chicken in her hand she took as large a bite as she could and smiled as she chewed.

Her lungs burned. Lips trembled. Wind tangled her hair. Exhaustion numbed her shoulders.

And best of all there were no people. No Malfoy’s around ruining her work. No Weasleys around to make a muck of her day.

“Merlin’s beard! Where did Diagon Alley go?”

The chicken leg fell into the snow and Brea twisted around.

Red hair and blue eyes stood out in stark comparison with the bright snow covering the landscape.

There stood a Weasley. Fred Weasley to be exact, unless he had switched clothing with his twin brother at some point.

Brea looked behind him wildly, looking for the door she had created but it was already gone.

“No, no, no he can’t be here.” She whispered.

Closing her eyes, Brea took a deep icy breath and let it out slowly, bowing her head deeply.

“Well I’m here anyways. What are you doing?”

“I’m attempting to drag enough energy together so that I can send you back to where you belong.”

There was a brief silence before she heard the sound of crunching snow moving away from her.

“Wicked. So where is this? Antarctica? Siberia?”

Brea frowned as he distracted her.

“This will someday be Diagon Alley. Just a bit of quiet please, if you don’t mind. Just for a moment.”

“Normally I’d right out refuse, but I don’t think that’s going to matter.”

Brea grit her teeth in irritation.

“Why not?” She demanded and opened her eyes. “Shit.”

“Such language. Know how to run in that skirt?” Fred asked as he began to walk backwards towards her.

In the distance a tall structure stood, a blemish on the otherwise empty fields.

“That’s Londinium… making those angry looking men and women with the shields and swords Vikings. Seems we’ve arrived just in time to winter with the Heathen Army. How kind.”

“Oh yea? How about we consider different friends.”

“Agreed.”

When he was within reach Brea gripped his hand tightly with one of hers, her wand hand twisted in her skirt and pulled him into a run.

The snow, though only ankle deep, hindered their progress severely. An already exhausted Brea quickly fell behind as her lungs burned and knees weakened.

The shouts from the storming party told Brea they were losing ground.

Fred, now in the lead was pulling her faster than her feet could manage. He looked over his shoulder and met her eyes.

“Why- are we- running?” He gasped in between breaths. “Why not apparate?”

Brea shook her head.

“This is- Britain- centuries ago. I’m not- _we’re not-_  fam-iliar- enough with it to- safely take us- anywhere.”

“Hogwarts?”

“This predates- Hogwarts.”

Fred stopped abruptly and pulled Brea behind him. It was only then that Brea noticed the wand in his hand raising.

Brea’s eyes widened and she tried to push his hand down.

“You mustn’t harm them!”

“I’m not, just a bit of ancient sorcery to fuel some legends is all.”

With practiced skill, he cast a disillusionment charm and pulled Brea swiftly into the line of a nearby forest with Brea erasing their footprints. When they were certain they had lost the war party they each leaned against the nearest tree to catch their breath, the invisibility charm falling free.

Brea braced her hands on her knees and took the moment to study Fred’s profile as he leaned around the tree to keep an eye on their pursuers.

 She wondered if he recognized her as the strange girl from Kings Cross… it was so long ago and the moment had been but one brief one out of countless since then. Many of his features remained the same, the untamed red hair and bluest eyes she’d ever seen. But the remains of boyhood had officially left him at some point, leaving him with high cheek bones, wide shoulders, lanky with wind whipped hair and a light dust of freckles. Brea began to feel the stirrings of physical attraction.

Until she remembered that this is Fred Weasley. Who in the world she had grown up in would die in just a couple of months.

Memories of meeting George as a he was when she was a little girl began to push past Breas mental defenses and it broke hear heart at how much grief had changed him. How much loosing Fred had changed him. Though she had changed history, she couldn’t change her memories.

‘I’ve got to get him home to his family before being around me gets him killed.’ Brea thought fiercely.

“Keep staring at me like that I might just begin to think you like me.” Fred said and flashed her a charming grin.

“You’re taking this rather well.”

“I had a feeling that there was something extraordinary about you. My oldest niece, Molly, we call her Little M, gave me a heads up about your arrival.”

Brea noticed that he’d begun to shiver violently in his thin clothing and dug through the folds of her cloak for her bag.

“Is she a seer?”

After a moment of digging Brea found what she was looking for and walked toward a small clearing in the trees.

“I lost ten galleons to Charlie the moment you took that ridiculous hood off. You make a wonderfully creepy old witch by the way.”

Brea narrowed her eyes at him and shoved the small bundle into his hands.

“Go set that down in the center of this clearing and help me set up some defensive wards.”

Fred chuckled but did as she demanded.

“You know it’s polite to say please.”

“Yes well it’s not exactly _polite_ to speak about someone behind their back, calling them names and spying on them.”

With a swish of her wand the bundle resting on the frozen ground began to unfurl until her familiar old tent popped up with a snap. After several spells to keep the muggles away and the tent safe, Brea led the way inside.

“Start a fire and I’ll get you a blanket. Why would your niece tell you and your family about my arrival? I’m nothing… to any of you.”

Brea noticed a deep shade of red staining Fred’s ears as he turned away to start a fire.

“She’s young, who knows where they get some of their nonsense. You fit the description of an adventurer coming to town. She didn’t get everything right about you though.”

With several blankets piled in her arms Brea joined him at the small fire and dumped them on the floor beside him.

“Like what?”

Fred continued to watch the budding fire.

“She said you were done running… but I think she was wrong.”

For some reason his words caused her to feel sadness. Perhaps it was the truth in them. She wanted desperately to be done.

“You take first watch. Wake me in four hours.” Brea said briskly as she laid down on the narrow bed, pulling a quilt over her. “I need to rest if I’m to get you back to your family.”

“My name is Fred by the way.” Fred said as he settled into the unsteady wooden chair, blankets wrapped around him.

Brea watched the firelight dance across his profile. Her first instinct was to lie and give him a false name and she despised herself for it. Instead of lying she said nothing at all and closed her eyes.

Hunger and soft snoring awoke Brea much later.

She sat up with a yawn and rubbed her eyes. When they focused she traced the snoring to its source. Fred was slumped in the chair, long legs stretched out and chin resting on his chest.

 Brea rolled her eyes and checked on Forge still nestled in the pocket of her cloak, and set him on the pillow. A quick investigation of the cupboards told Brea that they were indeed still without food. Sighing she searched around the tent until she found a small hunting bow and a quiver with several flint arrows nestled in a trunk.

With one last look at a peacefully sleeping Weasley she left the tent in search of game.

A quick look at the sun setting behind heavy clouds Brea knew she didn’t have long before it got too dark to hunt so she set about looking for tracks as well as intruders.

Surprisingly it didn’t take her long to find a decently plump rabbit digging in the snow and she quickly tried to steady her aim but her hunger and the freezing wind made her weak and the arrow missed, shattering on a rock as the rabbit shot into the darkening woods.

Closing her eyes against the frustration, she took a calming breath and began again. The next attempt came when she found a doe seeking warmth from the wind by a thicket. With her movement silenced with a spell she moved down wind.

When Brea took aim this time she forced her arms to steady and let loose another arrow. The sound of the arrow striking true caused her empty stomach to roll and she closed her eyes.

By the time Brea tracked her way back to the tent with the doe levitated behind her, the sun had set and snow was beginning to fall. She hung the out of sight of the tent and took out a small knife with a wooden handle.

Before she made the first cut she sang a song taught to her during her first hunt. A song of her thanks and her promise to cherish the gift the doe had given her.

When Brea at last trudged back to the tent her hands were stained with blood and the sack carrying its bounty was heavy. Now weaker than ever, the thought of eating in just the time it took for the deer meat to cook, was all that kept her on her feet now.

She’d expected to find Fred still wrapped up by the fire when she stumbled into the dimly lit tent. Instead she found him alert and pacing, the moment the entry way rustled closed his long legs crossed the distance and stopped just in front of her.

“Merlin’s beard Creepy! Where did you go? Another eight steps and I was coming to find you- wait is that blood? Are you hurt?” The panic in Fred’s voice increased and he reached out a hand to check for injury.

Brea side stepped his hand and set the bag of deer meat on a table.

“It’s not my blood. I’m not in the habit of telling others my comings and goings. Usually I’m alone.” She braced her hands on the table, feeling dizzy. “I apologize. Can you cook?”

“If you like your food burnt on the outside and raw on the inside then I’m your wizard.”

Brea pulled a chair over to the table and sat wearily, unpinned her cloak and let it fall off her shoulders.

“Perfect. You cook and I’ll talk you through it.”

Fred joined her by the table and peered at the bloody bag in curiosity.

“What is this?”

“A deer.”

At the inquisitive lift of his brow Brea nodded.

“I tracked, killed, dressed, and brought it home. You get to cook. There’s a pot hanging above the stove. Unfortunately all we have to go with it are a few spices but it will make a filling stew nonetheless.”

“Just so you know… I have a thing for bossy women.”

A weak smile escaped.

“Then you’re going to just _love_ me.”

“Already there love.”

Brea chose to ignore the pang she felt at his joke and her smile slipped.

“All you need for this is to light a fire under the burner, a small fire mind you. Set pot on burner, dump in the meat, a shot of _aguamenti_ , a few spices and let it simmer.”

“How about I do all of that and you answer a few questions.”

Brea shrugged and used her wand to cast her own _aguamenti_ into an empty bucket and began to wash the blood from her hands.

“I’ll answer as much as I can.”

“Fair enough. How about… how does it work? Your time travelling magic. Why here, specifically?”

“The how… honestly I’m not certain. I just can. As for the why here… Sometimes I have a specific date in mind. Give that a good stir. Sometimes I just have a want in mind.”

Fred found a wooden spoon and followed her instructions.

“You wanted ancient, cold, and life threatening?”

Brea sniffed her shoulder and cringed at the smell.

“Keep facing the stove. If you turn- I’ll know and you’ll wish you’d never followed me. I like winter and I was growing impatient.” Brea kept an eye on Fred as she swiftly unbuttoned her soiled clothing and slipped into a pair of faded flannels. When she was comfortable she slipped back into her chair. “Don’t forget to stir. As I was saying, after the hellish day you and yours… and mine I suppose, had given me, I was ready to go somewhere cold and far away in time.”

Fred leaned against a counter and crossed his arms.

“Are you really Lucius Malfoys kin?”

Brea focused on her hands resting in her lap.

“If we could keep the questions to the situation at hand…”

Fred held up a hand in surrender.

“Alright, don’t clam up… how about… so you hunt.”

“It’s not for sport, only ever out of necessity.”

“Sure… just never knew anyone who could hunt. What did you use?”

“A bow and arrow.”

“Wicked. Next time, I want to come.”

Brea lifted her eyes to him, attempting to keep the slight panic from edging her voice.

“There won’t be time. All I need is to eat and a bit more rest and I can send you home.”

Fred grinned.

“Do you honestly think I’m going to go back so quickly? We’re in- what century is this by the way…”

Brea shut her eyes tightly, thinking back on her history.

“Vikings have made their winter home in the city Rome built and then abandoned when Rome fell… ninth century? Later ninth century?”

“Brilliant. That’s before bloody Hogwarts was even built you said. I say we explore a bit.”

Brea smiled sadly but unable to argue her reasons she changed the subject.

“How about we take that off the burner and eat.”

The moment the bowl was set before her, Brea sipped the broth, welcoming the still scalding liquid.

“Congratulations Fred Weasley, you successfully cooked.”

Fred sat opposite her on a trunk and peered into his own bowl.

“George will never be able to control my cleaning habits again. What else do you know about where we are?”

Brea savored the bite she’d just taken before answering.

“Religions are at war, thus the Vikings have taken to exploration and colonization. While I don’t believe they are total barbarians, I do believe it would be difficult to make friendly with them so best we steer clear of any… that is unless you can speak Old Norse?”

Fred was listening to her with wide eyes and gave a quick shake of his head.

“Neither can I. We won’t understand anyone from this time really since languages evolve over time. Hogwarts won’t begin construction for another century, brooms around the same time.”

Fred looked around the tent.

“So this is… home?”

Brea inwardly cringed, another question she didn’t want to answer. Instead of answering, Brea stifled a yawn against an onset of weariness. “I’m done for.” Brea pushed herself from the table and began the cleanup and the moment the remaining meat had been stored she collapsed back on her bed, face down.

“Think you can manage to stay awake for your watch this time?” came her muffled voice.

“I make no promises.” Fred said as he finished his meal.

Brea was asleep within moments, never stirring as Fred placed her quilt over her sleeping frame.

He studied her a moment, the curious pygmy puff curled into the curve of her neck- he mentally stored that question- her cheek and lips squished against her pillow with soft snores and his heart began beating rather painfully in his chest. He still couldn’t quite believe she was real and much stranger than he had expected. He clenched the hand she had held onto tightly as they ran.

Fred’s belief in fate and destiny became steadfast in the realization that he’d seen her before. Haunted amber eyes but a teasing smile. Her hair had been much shorter but then again it had been several years and she’d been hiding in that same ratty old cloak. If she had been time traveling since then it was no wonder she was a little strange.

Fred glanced around the sparsely furnished tent and compared it to his fathers. He wondered where were the things that said they were hers. Aside from the fire pit, bed, trunk, table, single chair, stove, several utensils, and a small toilet room, there was nothing. He supposed there could be things in the trunk, preferably naughty knickers.

Sighing he sat in the only chair with his blanket and watched the fire thoughtfully. Something was off with her. He understood protecting one’s privacy, respected it. But to give up nothing… not even a name, was more than unusual. He couldn’t help but wonder at her reasons and only hoped that he earned her trust someday so that he might be granted a glimpse of her true self.

Fred gave a small laugh at himself.

‘Other than the fact that she’s a time traveler, related to Lucius Malfoy, gorgeous beyond reason, and only likes to be touched on her terms, you know nothing about her Freddy boy and yet here you are mooning over her. And yet she’s been trying to get rid of you since the moment she laid eyes on you. You know how to pick em.’ He thought, shaking his head.

 It wasn’t long before the warm fire began to lull him to sleep and rather than face whatever scathing words she would have should she discover he slept through another “watch”, he found the bow she must have used to hunt the deer with.

He drew the string back several times, decided that it didn’t seem too difficult and opened the trunk, looking for something, anything to keep him awake.

To his relief or disappointment, it was difficult to tell sometimes, it wasn’t filled with naughty knickers or anything like that. There was a pair of binoculars, a basket of yarn with knitting needles, a faded and creased map of South America, a photo album and a sword.

Fred perked up at the sight of the sword and pulled it free. Pleased to have something to do, and to have learned something else about his conversationally challenged companion, he began to try different sword stances. He swung the sword in heavy arcs, losing his balance more than once.  

After several minuets he heard rustling coming from the bed and took another swing.

“You’re doing it wrong.” Came a groggy voice.

Fred looked over to see her sitting up in the center of the bed, stretching her arms over her head. The flash of skin as her flannel shirt rose had him feeling things he was certain she wasn’t ready for him to feel.

“Oh I’ve no doubt about that love. But it was this or take a nice cozy nap.”

She fell back onto the bed with a sigh.

“Seeing as you’re still here, I’m either still asleep or we’re still in the ninth century and I didn’t bring any coffee.” 

“Creepy I’m honored to have been in your dreams but yep still here in the year eight hundred something. How can you be awake already?”

“I don’t sleep much. Go stand by the stove. I’m going to change and my threat still stands the same! If you behave, I’ll teach you how to properly use that thing tomorrow.”

Fred couldn’t resist his teasing her as he complied.

“Sweetheart, you keep bossing me around and I’ll say to hell with the consequences.”

She answered with an indignant sniff but otherwise ignored his flirtatious comment. She burned cold, but Fred felt it was from the years without proper interaction.

After a short moment she gave him permission to turn around and he looked at her appreciatively, in her sensible black pants, cord knit sweater and boots.

“What will you do while I sleep?” Fred asked fighting back a yawn.

She scooped up a bag that had been buried beneath her cloak and pulled out several books, star charts, a magnifying glass, and a compass, dropping each on the table.

“I’m going to do some research about the time period.”

Fred kicked off his boots and stretched out on the bed.

“Good night Fred.” She said quietly with the rustle of paper.

“Good night Creepy.” He replied and curled onto his side and closed his eyes as she sighed, the pygmy puff purring in his ear.

“My name is Brea Fox.”

His eyes opened and he watched her work a moment. She was hunched over a book, her pale hair creating a curtain around her, both legs folded into the chair.

“I think I like the name Creepy better.

Fred smiled to himself at the sound of her quiet laugh that was partly a snort, then drifted off to sleep.

He was enjoying a dream of Quidditch and sunshine when he was startled awake by the shaking bed. He sat up and scrubbed at his eyes. When he opened them he found a pair of amber eyes peering at him and he jumped back startled for the second time.

Brea was knelt by the bed, a small grin.

“Wake up Smelly, wipe the drool off- you’re cleaning my pillow by the way- and let’s get packed up.”

Fred waited till she walked away toward one of the extra blankets.

“Packed up?” He asked around a yawn. “Did you call me smelly?”

“Mmm. Yes. You smell. Terribly in fact. Since you’re determined to not go back to where you belong, and the longer we stay here the more we run the risk of discovery. I’ll transfigure you a coat and sword. We’ll pack up the tent and I’ll teach you to fight with the sword.”

Fred watched as she tied her hair back away from her face and clapped his hands as a thought occurred to him.

“I know where we ought to go. To see where Hogwarts will one day be.”

Brea looked at him with a lifted a brow.

“About a thousand years until the Hogwarts Express arrives to carry us along. You’re talking about almost a month of walking in the dead of winter. How about we think this through a moment. ”

Fred narrowed his eyes in thought before clapping again.

“So take us back to a more modern time, hop on over to ole Hoggywarts, comeback to a pre Hoggywart time.”

The excitement that lit up his eyes had Brea actually considering his plan.

“How about we acquire another means of travel. Have you ridden a horse?”

* * *

 

“This is a bad idea Fox. A terrible idea, horrible, you’re going to get yourself killed.” Brea muttered to herself.

“As far as idea’s go, I’ve had worse.”

Brea looked at him with narrowed eyes. They were both hiding near a copse of trees outside the old Roman city, on the lookout for any Vikings milling about in the early morning.

“Worse than stealing a horse from Vikings armed with sharp swords and axes.”

Fred grinned.

“The transfiguration professor at Hogwarts is ten times scarier than these blokes.”

“She is not! She’s-“ Brea suddenly snapped her mouth closed and turned away.

“Aha some new information about the mysterious Brea Fox. So are you from the past or the future. Couldn’t be the present because one just does not forget about meeting you around Hogwarts.”

Brea tried to ignore the butterflies his comment created.

“You’d be surprised.” She muttered.

“I remember you.”

Brea turned surprised eyes toward him.

“You do?”

“Hard to forget that hideous cloak you wear. Took what, nearly four years but I finally got your name.”

An odd feeling came over her and she studied his eyes.

“I remember you as well.”

Fred rolled his eyes.

“Of course you do. No one forgets Fred Weasley.”

Her smile faded as against her will, memories of his shattered family clouded her mind.

“No I don’t suppose they do. How about we see about a horse.”

Fred nodded and cast disillusionment charms over them. Brea reached out and found his shoulder, followed it down to his hand and pulled the invisible Weasley behind her. It was an odd sensation, holding someone’s hand but she told herself it was out of necessity, not affection, therefore it hardly mattered.

Entering the mostly abandoned city was rather simple. Brea suspected finding a horse would be a bit more difficult.

“Any horses we find here would have been taken in as a spoil of battle. It’s not likely we will see many.” Brea said quietly as they rounded a house. As luck would have it there was a covered shed, similar to a stable with a lovely black dale munching hay inside.

Brea grinned and started to walk towards it only to have Fred pull her back against his chest.

“Shh.” He signaled quietly in her ear before she could pull away. A second later a war hardened woman walked by, her sword on her hip. After the woman passed, Brea wanted to kick herself for her mistake but she didn’t have time for that and looked around carefully this time. Finding the area clear she finished the approach to the horse. The horse gently stomped a foot in unease but Brea murmured to him quietly and transfigured a nearby wooden saddle into a modern leather. Fred kept a lookout as Brea worked to ready the horse, shoved some grain into her bag and swiftly pulled herself onto the tall horse. He shifted restlessly with the unfamiliar feeling.

“Fred, you’ll have to ride behind me.” She whispered.

“I thought you’d never ask.” Came his reply.

Brea frowned.

“What do you mean?”

There was a light chuckle and she felt rather than saw his hand settle on her thigh.

“I’ll explain some other time.”

Brea gripped his wrist and moved his hand to the saddle horn.

“Hold this, put your foot in the stirrup and pull yourself up.”

“Simple enough.” He said and made the attempt. Three tries later and he had successfully settled behind her.

Brea cast her own disillusionment charm on the horse and guided him out of the town, Fred wrapping his arms around her waist tightly has he tried to keep his balance.

“Fred you’ve got to relax. I can’t breathe.” Brea whispered tightly.

Immediately he loosened his grip and chuckled nervously in her ear.

“Sorry about that... not exactly like riding a broom is it?”

The moment they left the north exit Brea nudged the horse into a faster gait and Fred’s death grip was back. Once they were out of view of the Vikings Brea slowed the horse and they dropped the invisibility charms.

“Where did you learn to ride a horse?” Fred asked.

Brea smiled and leaned forward to give the horse a pat on the neck.

“I rode the pigs that were raised on the farm when I was a child but I learned to ride horses In the American Wild West. We’ll ride for as long as you can manage then stop for the day. I’ll teach you a bit of sword fighting then.”

Fred hummed in her ear.

“And more of the Fox enigma unravels.”

Before Brea could steel herself against the realization that he was right she allowed herself to feel happy. But she couldn’t have him believing he’d won anything and she urged the horse into a sudden gallop, forcing Fred to hold onto her tightly again.

“If you think you’re punishing me by using the horse to force me into holding you tighter you’re wrong!” He shouted over the wind.

Brea’s relished in the cold wind rushing against her face and the warm body holding her tight and rather than fighting back she laughed.

After several hours of easy paced riding, Fred had had enough and the two made camp for the night. Brea tried to hide her grins at the pained look Fred gave anytime he had to walk.

“Up on your feet Smelly, we have sword training.” Brea ordered and pulled their swords from her bag.

Fred groaned.

“But I’m a wizard. You know, magic, sorcery that sort of thing? I can just-“

Brea shoved the handle of the sword into his hand.

“You wanted to explore the Middle Ages, well this is part of the adventure.”

Fred wrinkled his nose but stood up.

“For the record, I wouldn’t have chosen the middle ages. The first Quidditch World Cup now…”

Brea led him outside the tent they had just finished setting up. “Really? Didn’t someone get beheaded during that?”

“Brutal right? What are you going to name him?” Fred asked, jerking a thumb toward the horse tied under a makeshift stable.

“I thought of that the moment I saw him. Loki.”

“Who’s Loki?”

“A god in Norse mythology, he was a shapeshifter and a trouble maker. I wonder if perhaps he was real and was an animagus or even metamorphmagus. First lesson. Getting to know your sword.”

Fred gave a slow grin.

“There’s not much I don’t know about my sword.”

Brea stared at him as the innuendo began to register in her brain and she felt her face flame bright. In her embarrassment she steadied her stance and took a swift swing with her sword.

* * *

 

The two travelers quickly settled into a routine of early morning traveling on Loki, afternoon sword practice and hunting, followed by Fred on first watch and Brea on second. Showers were brief and Fred would transfigure a clean blanket for clean clothes. For the most part they traveled in silence, with it occasionally broken with instructions on hunting.

Both had questions and only one was ready to ask them, the other needing a bit of a push.

The evening of their third day of travel found them eating yet another meal of deer stew, Brea would try and keep her eyes on her meal but quite often they would flick up to an obviously sore Fred then almost immediately back to her bowl.

“Alright out with it.” Fred said.

Brea pretended not to hear and sipped from her spoon.

“You obviously have something on your mind. And as much as I enjoy those little looks you keep sending me Creepy, I’d much rather you tell me what’s on your mind.

Brea looked up and found him watching her with a little smile, her cheeks reddening at his light teasing.

“I suppose there is something on my mind… would you tell me about your family? I believe in an earlier encounter you mentioned you had… five siblings?”

Brea knew the correct size of his family but she’d already given too much of herself away and feigned ignorance.

“I’ll only tell if you tell.”  He quipped.

Brea rolled her eyes, realizing that she should have expected that but she nodded anyways. Her desire to hear about the family she’d only barely known but loved beyond reason, outweighed her desire to keep some of her secrets.

“Excellent then. You want me to start with my siblings? There are seven of us all together. You already know Charlie, I’m going to ask you about that by the way, but he’s only the second oldest. There’s Bill first, then Charlie. Perfect Percy, me and George- I’m the better looking twin- ickle Ron and surprise, surprise my baby sister Ginny.”

Brea smiled softly at the mention of Ron and nodded for him to continue.

“Ron and Ginny are still in school, Percy works for the ministry doing something boring. He’s the father of Little Molly. You can imagine our surprise when Perfect Percy married right out of school and along came Little M. Bill is a curse breaker with a daughter of his own. George is getting married in the summer to Angelina.”

“You must have many stories to tell with a family like that.” Brea said wistfully. I pleased her to know that everyone seemed happy.

“Loads. I’ll tell you as many as you want but first… pay up Creepy Fox.”

She hesitated and studied her half empty bowl.

“I didn’t have a family in the traditional sense. I was raised by Martha. She was never grandmother or anything like that… just Martha. There were a few others that I called family but I haven’t seen them in a very long time.”

“Grew up on a farm…”

Brea sighed in frustration and glared at Fred.

“Why are you so interested in my life?”

Fred looked at her archly.

“Why are you so interested in mine?”

“Because- because it’s not every day you meet someone with such a large family. I was curious.”

“It’s not every day you meet someone who’s so stubbornly secretive.”

With a flash of angry eyes Brea stood and braced her hands on the table.

“Accept the fact Fred Weasley that not everyone is an open book. You’ve known me all of three days and think I’m supposed to tell you- no. This conversation is over.” Brea said through clenched teeth.

Fred natural smile thinned for the first time since following her to the ninth century.

“I’d say it was just beginning love.”

Brea turned away before she truly lost her temper and laid down, facing the wall of the tent. Her thoughts and emotions were in turmoil.

‘This wasn’t how this was supposed to go.’ She thought angrily.

The next morning was filled with stony silence as the two went about preparing for their journey to continue. Both held themselves stiff on Loki, who by picking up on his companion’s mood was more than a bit moody himself.

“You need to relax or Loki is going to end up bucking us off.” Brea snapped after some difficulty with directing Loki in the correct direction.

“Oh believe me Fox, I am more than relaxed. You’re the one with the stick up- oof” He was cut off by the jab of her elbow into his side.

His sudden movement and curse caused Loki to startle and kick up his front hooves.

“Loki calm-“ Brea struggled to sooth the agitated horse but an already unstable Fred began to slip from the saddle. “Fred!” Brea cried out and pulled on the reigns as hard as she could, bringing Loki around and away from the still and bloody body of Fred. “Shit, no, no.” She whispered to herself and quickly slid from the tall horse and rushed to Fred’s side.

His eyes were closed peacefully, too peacefully and Brea’s heart stopped beating. With shaking hands she searched for a pulse. Her breath came back in a rush of relief when she felt the thump against her fingers.

Carefully she moved him and found he’d hit his head on a rock only partially buried by the snow. The bleeding from the gash above his right eyebrow as steady and would more than likely need to be sewn shut. Quickly she dug through her bag and found her scarf from her school days and pressed it against the cut.

“You’re going to be ok Fred, just wake up. I’m sorry, I sh-“

_“Mund uppi fangi.”_ A heavy voice paired with the sound of steel being drawn came from behind Brea, causing her to freeze with her hand pressing the scarf against Fred’s wound.

_“Mund uppi fani!”_ the voice pronounced slowly and Brea drew in a deep breath as she felt the sharp blade of steel press against her neck.

Brea couldn’t understand the words but she understood the language of a sword well enough and slowly raised her hands. She knew the Viking wouldn’t understand but she had to try.

“Please- he’s hurt and needs help-“

The last thing Brea remembered before the sharp pain exploding in the back of her head and the deep darkness afterwards, was the bright red of Fred’s blood across the snow.

* * *

 

_“Why did you plant a new prophecy amongst the heathens?”_

_“My daughter is stubborn and this will give them something to bond over.”_

_“It is a distraction! She should be-“_

_“It is a well-deserved distraction.”_

_“The Fates will use this against her- against us.”_

_“And they will fail. Because of him she will remember her purpose.”_

* * *

 

A deep ache spread behind Brea’s eyes as the darkness and whispers faded away. The gentle sway and the sound of crashing waves were… familiar. She took a sniff and opened her eyes as a fresh spray of salty mist hit her in the face.

The first thing she realized was that she was in a boat, lying on her back with her head propped on something soft. Above her a white sail was full of wind. She looked to one of her sides and realized she was laying with her head in someone’s lap, a soothing hand running through her hair.

With a gasp she sat up, the sudden movement causing her to cry out in pain and she held her head, closing her eyes.

“Easy there Fox.” Fred murmured and pulled her back against him.

When the pain receded enough she opened her eyes and looked from Fred to the rest of their traveling companions. There were half a dozen men and women, each watching them carefully. One woman had her sword drawn and Brea saw her bag slung across the woman’s chest and two wands in her other hand.

“We seem to be prisoners.” Fred said.

Brea looked at their hands and feet then looked back at the woman.

“If that were true then why are we not bound?”

 

 

 


	58. Fire and Ice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up there is a hint at animal sacrifice because well... this is a story with Vikings in it and that was a part of their lives. However, I kept it brief. Also this was originally one giant 9k word chapter so I chopped it into 2 chapters. Enjoy!

 

 ‘It’s happening again.’ Echoed through her mind, the words were louder than the crash of the waves.

Flashes of Regulus, Tom, Stacy, Lootah, and Anthony haunted her.

Brea Alara Fox had felt misery many times for many different reasons throughout her twenty years but as she sat in the Viking ship, sailing for parts unknown, she felt herself falling deeper into guilt.

After her initial observation that while she and Fred were indeed captive, they were not however prisoners, she felt bone melting relief that Fred as awake and for the most part unharmed. He was pale, the dried blood on the side of his face contrasting sharply but he was alert and watching their captors with a touch of curiosity.

Immediately after realizing that he was fine Brea had felt her stomach roll and pushed herself away from Fred, lunging for the side of the boat. She ignored the shout from one of the Vikings and hung her head over the side, emptying what contents she had.

The comforting touch on her shoulder filled her with warmth she didn’t deserve so she shrugged away from Fred and kept her gaze on the waves. She couldn’t bear to look at him, at what she had nearly done to him. Anytime her eyes grazed him, she would see the hurt and confusion in his blue eyes, see the angry red gash above them, and her self-loathing would increase.

Rather than face surfacing feelings Brea attempted to scrape together a plan for their escape.

None ever came.

The Vikings never interacted with them except to hand them their rations of food and water. Brea didn’t even want to think about what they had been forced to do in order to relieve other bodily needs.

Forge was still safely nestled in her pocket and to pass the time she would whisper to him about what the Vikings could possibly want with them. The woman with their wands seemed to never sleep and their only means of escape remained well guarded. The way the Viking regarded the wands had Brea suspecting they were familiar with magic.

Three days of bitter cold and rough sailing in the longboat was beginning to wear on Brea. It wasn’t the sailing itself as she had put in her own fair share of time beneath a white sail, rather it was the company.

“Are you going to speak to me today?” Fred would ask every morning when Brea would show signs of waking. She would feel guilty and turn to watch the waves roll by endlessly.

On the third morning Fred changed tactics.

“You’re going to speak to me today.”

Brea felt her shoulders stiffen at his tone. A tone that was different than anything she’d heard from Fred during their short acquaintanceship.

“I think I know what’s going on here. You’ve been on your own for so long that you’ve forgotten how to be a person.”

Brea clenched her hands.

“But me being the gentleman I am, I’ll refresh you. You see when you cause someone injury, usually the polite thing to do is to make sure they are not seriously hurt, and then you apologize. And if they are inclined, they in turn accept. Then you spend the rest of the time conversing, moving on, or I don’t know, working together to find a way out of their current situation.”

Brea stubbornly held her peace but she couldn’t keep from looking at him.

She didn’t expect him to smile at her reassuringly.

“I don’t blame you.” he said, his voice turning gentle and in that moment Brea hated him.

 “Just stop.” She said through clenched teeth, her heart pounding. “You can’t possibly forgive something like what I did to you. You don’t just _forgive_ that. No one is that… that _good.”_

Fred stared at her with sharpness.

“I’m not a fucking saint-“

He was cut off by a startling shout from one of the Vikings, drawing both their attention. He was staring out over the water. Following his gaze Brea saw the jagged outline of rocky shore.

The longboat became a bustle of activity as their captors prepared for their landing. They spoke with excitement and laughter, Brea couldn’t understand their words but she knew they must be relieved to be so near the homes and families.

Once they landed on the shore they walked a short distance to a small village hidden by hills. Their hands remained unbound but the woman still had possession of their wands.

The snow covered village was quaint but the residents seemed worn with their tattered clothing. They drew gazes that at first were curious then became excited. Several children trailed their heels, jumping with their hands stretched upward. Fred seemed to understand what they wanted and he knelt for a moment. His laughter was genuine as the children ran their hands through his hair.

Brea started to pull her hood up, seeking to hide her striking hair but she stopped when a little girl pulled on her cloak, her large brown eyes shining. She followed Fred’s lead and knelt along with him, the smile on the girls face lit her up and she ran a small hand through the tangled locks.

The woman shooed the children back and the small group continued to walk through the village. Brea looked over her shoulder to see the little girl wave and after a moment’s hesitation, Brea returned the gesture.

They were led into a small building filled with firelight and warmth. A scarred elderly man sat in a large chair, quickly taking in their arrival, his gaze resting on them in turn. The woman approached him, her body language showed that she respected this man and she seemed rather excited.

Brea took a step forward when she handed their wands over to the elder but stopped when his eyes looked from them to the wands in surprise and he spoke rapidly.

Two of the other Vikings moved to a chest and lifted a flat stone, setting it on a fur laid near the fire.

The woman looked at them with kindness for the first time and urged them to the stone. Brea reached out to run a finger along one of the carvings in the stone, gasping in surprise.

“What is it?” Fred asked and stepped closer.

“Runes.” Brea’s eyes swiftly moved over the markings, several standing out to her. “I think I might be able to translate this. It seems like they want us to know what this is.”

Fred studied the stone skeptically.

“You might be able to read this?”

“I took a bit of Ancient Runes in school.” Brea looked at the woman and pointed to her bag. “Please… I need to get one item from my bag.” The woman clearly didn’t understand the words but she understood the gesture and looked toward the man. After several words were spoken he gave a nod of approval and the woman slowly handed Brea her bag.

She tried to make it seem like a normal, everyday bag but after several moments of searching Brea rolled her eyes and shoved her arm in as far as she could. The lack of reaction from the Vikings confirmed her suspicions.

“They’ve been around magic.” She said quietly then at last pulled out her old school tome on ancient runes. The woman accepted the bag back and Brea set to translating, feeling the blood drain from her face and panic clouded her thoughts when she had finished. “No, no, no.” she whispered desperately.

“What does it say?” Fred asked.

Brea ignored him and looked up at the old Viking with frantic eyes.

“Please, I’ll do it but not him. Just allow me to use my wand one time so I can send him home. He- he shouldn’t even _be-_ “

Fred gripped her shoulders and turned her to face him.

“What the hell does this bloody rock say?”

Brea moved her gaze over his face, lingering on the deep cut.

“Tell me.” He said with a serious tone.

“It- it’s a prophecy.” Brea closed her eyes and tried to calm herself.

_“Ice, Born of a Goddess, Fire, Born of Kings…_

_Once united…_

_So that one may fly with the Last of her Kind, One will have to fall…_

_Silver be her wing who will return with war on her breath…_

_Their might will be the shield…”_

After she finished reciting the prophecy she opened her eyes and touched his hair lightly.

“Your hair is like fire, and nearly everyone in your family is named after someone with royal blood. And then there’s me.”

Brea’s hand dropped and she looked at the Vikings.

“I’ll do it but him-” she pointed at Fred. “He is off limits.”

“I think that’s my decision.” He said flatly.

“No it’s not. You’re not supposed to be here Fred-“

“According to that rock, I am!”

Brea felt her already weak grip on her control begin to slip.

“Why couldn’t you have just gone back to 1998 like I wanted you to? Fred, people around me-“ Brea took an unsteady breath and tried again to get the words out. “People who stay around me too long end up hurt or worse. They end up dead.” Saying the words for the first time cut Brea to the core of her soul but she had to convince Fred to go home. “And you heard that prophecy. One will fall so that one may fly. Fuck, you’ve already nearly died because of me.”

“I don’t need your protection Fox, I can handle myself. What I need, is for you to get it through that thick skull that I’m here and I’m already a part of this.”

“No, you can’t handle this! Maybe the old Fred could have but you-“ Brea slapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes wide in shock at what she’d said.

Fred held a finger up… and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again he moved his hand to hold the back of her head, threading his fingers through her hair, forcing her gaze to meet his.

“Right now… I’m not going to ask you what you mean by that because… I know you well enough by now to know you’ll only deflect the question. Instead I’m going to ask why are you so willing to believe what this rock says. How exactly are you interpreting this prophecy? Why not simply get our wands and run?”

Brea felt her resolve weaken and her heart pound. Whether it was the close proximity Fred was holding her or the secrets she held clawing to be free, she couldn’t say.

“This isn’t my first rodeo with the foretold.”

At Fred’s curious look Brea started over.

“Sorry, a phrase I learned from a friend. I’ve encountered a prophecy before and though it was terrible and ugly, it was true. This one wants us to find someone, or something. And rescue it for a battle that is coming for these people. And only one of us will come back.” Brea pulled away and looked toward the silently listening Vikings. “You see the way he’s holding our wands with both hands? See the glint in his eyes? He knows what he’s holding. One wrong move and he’ll snap them both. I’m not confident our hand to hand skills could take on seven seasoned warriors.”

“Can you get us home without a wand?”

Brea broke eye contact from the old Viking and back at Fred.

“Wandless magic is unstable, unreliable. And so am I. You’re right about me… I’ve spent more time in the past than the present and its left me… changed. I’m not even certain when the ‘present’ is.”

“Will you be able to take us back to the moment we left 1998?”

Brea hated the uncertainty she felt.

“If I have time to properly concentrate, yes.”

Fred turned to face the elder Viking and nodded solemnly. “We’ll go.”

“You can’t--“ Brea was cut off as the Vikings began to speak rapidly over the other.

The woman however raised one of Brea’s hands, inspected it, dropped it and then repeated the same with Fred. She spoke loudly, over her companions. More chatter then she pulled Brea out of the building. With unease, Brea looked over her shoulder to see the men leading Fred in the opposite direction.

“Maybe they want to prepare us for the journey?” She called to him, hoping to reassure herself more than anything.

* * *

 

The male body was nothing new to Fred. Besides being one himself and living in a house with six other men, a dormitory with many other teenagers, and a locker room with several male team mates, no he was not a stranger to seeing another man’s body. However nothing in his life had ever prepared him for the experience he’d just had.

After being dragged away from Brea, he had been led to another building. Once inside he’d quickly realized that this must have been a bath house or some sort of hot spring, if the humidity were a clue.

He welcomed the thought of a bath as it had been far too long since he’d enjoyed a thorough cleaning.

Fred nodded his thanks to the men and waited for them to leave. Instead after they had exchanged grins and what Fred suspected were jokes at his expense they began to strip him of his clothes. Fred had been startled to nearly numbness as his coat and shirt were pulled off.

When one of the burly Vikings reached for the button on his trousers, Fred finally jumped back with a yelp.

“Alright now, let’s talk about this. How about I take over from here and you striking men take a break yeah?”

They broke out into more rounds of laughter, seeming to understand the uncertainty in his expression. Fred rolled his shoulders and finished the job, his back turned to the lot. He wasn’t one usually for modesty, just ask Lee Jordan, but there was something about men with sharp swords and axes that just made one a tad more vulnerable feeling.

Next came the most awkward bath Fred had ever had. It wasn’t the pool of water, which was better than his mum’s cake. It wasn’t the scented oils, or even the fact that there were seven naked men in the pool with him. It was the fact that seven strange, naked men, were in the pool with him and trying to rub the oils on his bare skin and hair.

It took multiple tries and many jokes that Fred just couldn’t understand before he gave in and let them do whatever ritual they were wont to do, using the ‘faster I get it over with, the faster I get out of here’ logic. During the process he couldn’t help wondering if Brea were going through something similar.

Soon he was properly bathed, dried, and dressed in warm Viking clothing, his sword was returned to him, belted to his hip, and his wound properly treated. When the elder led the group outside the bath house, Fred found the sun nearly set and he was led through the village. He noticed villagers gathering behind them as they walked.

The snow crunched under his boots until he was stopped beneath winter bare trees, and a goat tied to a stake.

“There you are… did you have a bath as well? You look nice.” Brea said as she and several women approached from the same direction he’d just come.

Fred felt his breath hitch at the sight she made.

Dressed in similar clothing to his own, her sword at her hip, but her hair was down and brushed clean, held back by a thin bronze circlet. The cold made her nose red and lips tremble, there was a brightness in her eyes.

After a moment of him staring she looked at him with concern.

“Weasley?”

He blinked and shook his head.

“I mean yes… I did have a bath. I bet yours was more fun.” He couldn’t resist teasing and he was rewarded by a tinge of pink on her cheeks.

“I suspect they want to do a ritual for our prophecy. The Norse take these things very seriously. Rather than offend them let’s get this over with.”

Fred arched a brow with a pleased smile.

“My thoughts exactly.”

Their new friends guided them into place, side by side and facing the elder and his goat. He began to speak, looking at each in turn. At one point one of the other men by Fred’s side spoke and then a woman by Brea spoke. Once they were done the elder raised Brea’s hand and slipped a ring on one of her fingers and then did the same to him.

A trickling thought began to occur to him, a thought that was too insane to consider but he looked down at Brea.

It was at this time that Brea looked from the ring on her hand, to the ring on his before meeting his gaze, chewing her bottom lip.

“Um… I think I didn’t fully interpreted the prophecy. I think they-“

The elder was handed a knife and knelt before the goat.

Fred felt Brea stiffen beside him and she took a step forward.

“No!”

But it was too late, the cut was made and blood was spilled. Fred reached for Brea’s hand and pulled her back to his side. He could feel her trembling and for the first time he truly began to realize just how much death affected her.

The elder dipped some sort of leafy twig in the spilled blood and flicked the thick substance onto them. Fred cringed and felt Brea tighten her hand around his. As the elder chanted his ritualistic words Fred felt the prickle of electricity sweep across his skin.

Cheers from the Vikings sounded behind them and they were ushered back to the village and into the original building. In another room a long table was laden with food. The delicious aroma wiped everything from Fred’s mind as his stomach growled hungrily.

He and Brea were seated next to each other and the others crowded around them, laughter filling the hall as food filled their bellies.

“Weasley I think we were just married.” Brea said quietly. “One of the lines said ‘once united’, and then the woman inspected our hands- looking for rings I’m certain of it. And look, now we have shiny gold rings.”

Fred nodded and reach for another slice of bread. He dropped it when Brea’s hand shot out and grabbed his wrist.

“Please tell me you understand this. We are a witch and wizard, married. That doesn’t just go away when we go back to your time.”

“Our time.”

“What?”

Fred sighed and twisted his wrist so that he was holding her hand.

“The moment those rings came to rest on our fingers, I understood just what they were doing, same as you. Am I happy about it? No. This isn’t how I envisioned someday getting bonded for life to the woman I love.”

“Another reason why you shouldn’t have followed me.”

Fred’s patience was beginning to thin.

“I was always going to follow you Brea. Three years ago, the moment I saw you… I just knew.”

Confusion clouded her eyes.

“Look, I’m not demanding anything of you or expecting anything if that’s what you’re worried about. Let’s see this through, see where this prophecy takes us. Get our wands back and go home. Together.”

There was uncertainty in her eyes, and a look that said she was anything but happy but she dropped the subject and returned to her meal.

Fred was not as calm as he looked. His emotions where awhirl as he took a gulp of whatever awful brew was in his goblet. Here he was hours away from embarking on some life threatening prophecy, and married to a witch who merely tolerated him. Married and he’d never even kissed her.

Memories of their brief time filled his head. The way she moved with a sword, or adjusted the bow in his hands, and spent hours reading or studying maps. Everything she did was with a determined look. Never a moment gone to waste.

He realized that she never took a moment to simply be. To watch the clouds or build a snow man.

Fred watched her out of the corner of his eye. Even when she ate, it was with concentration. She didn’t chew slowly, or watch the people around her. Even when there was a sudden loud bout of laughter, she might as well have been alone.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  


	59. The Last of her Kind

 

After a night spent in their usual routine of split watches, Brea and Fred were given a map and supplies then led to the edge of the village. Fred led the way through trees while Brea studied the map, looking for clues for their destination.

“Silver wings… war on her breath… dragon! Alright if I were to capture a dragon, where would I take her…? Somewhere confined. Somewhere difficult to get too.” Brea muttered to herself, her gaze scanning the map for anything that stood out. She traced the path they were on to a river and followed it upstream to what looked like a possible waterfall or cavern. “Similar to Gringott’s… was she stolen or merely trapped? Perhaps she abandoned the village. Is she their guardian? The river is wide. Too wide. I suppose it could be frozen-“

A snowball to her face cut her off, replacing her train of thought with a screech.

“Why did you do that?” she cried out and wiped snow from her mouth.

“Just a friendly reminder that you’re not alone. And you seemed to be going mad. Couldn’t have that now.” Fred said over his shoulder as he kept pace.

“I know I’m not alone, how could I forget. I was _supposed_ to be alone.” Brea snapped and stomped after him. “But Fred Weasley is too nosey and intrusive to leave well enough alone!”

“Aww and it only took you a week and a half to realize it.”

Brea stopped in surprise.

“Has it truly been that long?”

“Do you not keep up?”

Brea jogged to catch up.

“Can you take shorter steps please? Short legs here. Time is irrelevant to me.”

“Here that better?” Fred eased his pace until she was at his side. “I find that hard to believe.”

Brea squinted up at him.

“Why do you say that?”

“You never waste a moment of time. You sleep just enough to replenish your energy, chew just enough to eat. Since our first morning here you have never once just done… nothing. Your time means everything to you. Seems the days just blend together for you.”

Sometime while he spoke Brea had stopped walking again and stared at him. It startled her at how well he seemed to know her.

“Hey I started taking smaller steps for you but you’ve got to do your part here.” He called over his shoulder.

Brea felt her heart pound as she watched him walk away. The shining sun lit up his hair, his thick robes and furs swayed with him, sword glinting at his hip.

A thought that she had been avoiding since the feast began to claw from the depths where she locked all thoughts she was afraid of.

‘I’m married. To Fred Weasley.’

She swallowed with difficulty.

“This whole… being married business. I’m sorry. If I’d only realized sooner…”

Fred turned and shook his head.

“They weren’t going to let us leave without our full corporation.”

Brea’s eyes widened as a sudden thought occurred to her.

“Er… were you already involved with someone you know… romantically? Have I ruined this for you? The thought ought to have occurred to me last night when you mentioned the woman you love but I never wanted to come between-“

She was startled into silence by his sudden and unexpected laughter.

“Oh there’s someone special alright. But you let me worry about her. She’ll come around.”

Brea couldn’t explain the twist in her stomach.

“Know where we’re going by the way? Because honestly, I’ve just been strolling.” Fred said as he squinted into the sunlight and looked around.

“Oh! Oh yes.” Brea was suspiciously relieved about the subject change. “If I’m correct, what we’ve been captured to seek out is a dragon. I suspect she is some sort of guardian to these people. I’m still not sure on where we are, and this map is more than crudely done but there seems to be cave up the river. When the sun dips to the tree tops we should make camp for the night. And we’ll practice more swordsmanship then as well. You’re rather terrible at it.”

Fred feigned indignation.

“I beg your pardon… I think I’m more than skilled enough to be a knight for her majesty.”

Brea only rolled her eyes.

* * *

 

After two days of cross country hiking, the two reached the river and found it covered in a thick layer of ice.

“If only we had our wands, we could transfigure a pair of ice skates and simply skate across.” Brea murmured.

“It seems thick enough.” Fred held his hand out to Brea, dropping it when she ignored it.

“I think I can cross quite fine Weasley.” Brea said stubbornly and adjusted her pack on her shoulders before taking several cautious steps onto the ice. Feeling her confidence grow she looked over her shoulder with a smart grin. “See?”

Fred smiled back.

“C’mon love, you’ve only taken three steps-“

He cut off when predictably she turned away. One of her feet slipped but she managed to steady herself. However two steps later, both feet went in opposite directions and she was stuck with her feet as far apart as they could reach, her bum in the air and her hands holding her up on the ice.

Fred could no more hold back his snort of laughter than force the sun to set faster.

“Shut. Up.” She growled. After a moment she wiggled her feet closer together until she was steady enough to straighten up. Flicking her braid over her shoulder she took several more sliding steps before her feet went awry once more, this time with disastrous results.

Brea yelped as she went down, the edge of one of her boots catching on a ridge in the ice, turning her ankle painfully and landing hard on her back.

Fred laughed and slowly made his way out to her on the ice. With difficulty Brea rolled herself to sitting and glared up at him when he stood over her with hands on his hips.

“I told you so.”

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t. Come on.” His smile widened and he held a hand down to her. She stuck out her tongue and heavily dropped one of her hands into his. “Steady now- there we go.” Fred grunted as he helped her to her feet.

Brea bit back a cry of pain as she put weight on her twisted ankle.

“Perfect.” She mumbled sarcastically.

“Now, now, Fred here will help you across, though he knows it pains you so.”

Brea rolled her eyes as he pulled her arm to wrap around his waist and he did the same to her. She made a fist in his cloak and took several unsteady hops.

“Alright this isn’t working.” Fred said before suddenly kneeling in front of her.

“What are you doing?” Brea asked, wobbling slightly as she balanced on one foot.

Fred pointed at his back.

“Get on, it’ll be faster to just carry you.”

Brea remained frozen on the spot as she stared at him with wide eyes. After a moment Fred rested a knee on the ice and twisted to look at her.

“It’s called a piggy back ride. You don’t need to worry about me dropping you, I’m a pretty stout fella and I’ve been giving Ginny rides since she was a wee baby. Still do from time to time.”

“I know… I know what it is.” Brea blew a few loose strands from her eyes, meeting his gaze.

“Trust me, I won’t drop you.”

“And if you fall?”

Fred shrugged. “Then we fall together, get back up and try again. If we have to slip, slide, and fall to get across this river then that’s what we’ll do. Now, let’s get you on.”

Brea sighed but gave a small nod. It should have felt awkward leaning on Fred’s back in order to wrap her arms across his collarbone, but it felt rather nice to be near a warm body. When Fred stood, Brea raised knees to his waist so he could secure them with his hands.

“I think you’ve got several stone on Ginny though…” Fred grunted as she lightly shifted Brea on his back.

Brea released one of her arms for a moment to pull on his hair.

“Just get us across the damn river Weasley.”

Fred chuckled and followed orders.

After a moment of holding herself tense, she relaxed slightly, her chin resting on top of his head. The breeze was cold but the sun was shining and Brea’s eyes slowly closed.

“Don’t fall asleep up there.” Fred teased.

A smile slipped across her lips.

“What would you do if I did?”

“I’d be forced to carry you like a pirate, over my shoulder.”

Brea pulled a chunk of his hair again.

“Never fear, I was only enjoying one of my favorite things.”

Fred hummed in acknowledgement and concentrated on getting across the river. After only two more near slips they had arrived to the other side and Brea gently slipped from Fred’s back, keeping her hands on his shoulders for support. When he turned around to look at her, Brea had to tilt her head back to look up at him.

“There now, see? Always trust a dashing Weasley.”

Brea felt her heart skip at the teasing smile he wore and the twinkle in his endlessly blue eyes.

“It’s not the _worst_ piggy back ride I’ve had.”

He gave a light tap to her nose before helping her hop to a nearby fallen log.

Brea frowned at the feeling of loss she felt when he stepped away and left her to gather firewood.

“I suppose you’re excused from practice this evening.”

“Pity.” Fred said cheerfully and concentrated on his task.

Brea sat in silence, watching him. The more she thought over their present situation the more she grew worried.

When the fire grew to a warm flicker, Fred sat beside her and drew her close against his side. Brea willingly huddled against his side.

“You had to go somewhere cold…” he muttered.

Brea nudged him with her elbow.

“Winter is misunderstood.”

“How could this be misunderstood?” Fred gestured toward the bare trees and approaching clouds.

“Well… to me winter is when everything is clean. The growth of the year has fallen away, animals sleep warm in their dens, and people only venture outside for necessity. Winter is quiet. Dark trees against blues and whites. Snowflakes dancing in the wind. Beautiful. Misunderstood.” She said wistfully.

“Absolutely bonkers.”

Brea, feeling more comfortable around Fred than she had around anyone else in a long time, allowed her head to rest against his shoulder.

“I suppose you prefer summer then?”

“You know me so well. To me, summer is freedom, the hot sun beating down as I play Quidditch with my family, mum yelling at us that we won’t get any pie if he haven’t done our chores. Blackmailing Ron into doing our chores. Late nights and late mornings. The whole family spending the day at the beach with sand and salty air.”

“To you summer means family.” Brea said quietly. “They’re everything to you.” She felt Fred shift beside her, his arm slipped around her waist and held her tightly.

“They are. Speaking of family… there’s been something I’ve wanted to ask you about.”

“Fred, you always have something you want to ask me about.”

“And I know you are incredibly skilled at ignoring those you don’t want to answer but…”

“Go on, you might as well try.”

“The runes you translated said ‘one born of a goddess’.”

“That’s a statement not a question.”

Fred pinched her on the arm, causing her to yelp and pull away from him.

“Fine. I’ll tell you. Just… keep an open mind. My mother is a Greek goddess. I don’t know the specifics but from what I know of gods and goddesses, she inhabited a human, became pregnant, carried me, died and returned to her plane of existence. Father unknown. Lucius Malfoy is my only known kin, however distantly. While he was not necessarily _born_ from a goddess he is descended from them.” Brea spoke in a rush, uncomfortable with spilling something so personal, particularly when it sounded like something a mad woman would say.

Brea struggled to erect her walls as thoughts of her childhood surfaced.

“Have you met her? Tried to find out who your father was?”

Brea stared into the flames.

“I met her once. She was terrifying and beautiful. Asking about my father never occurred to me. We only spoke of… other family matters and-“ Brea broke off as a lone memory floated through her mind.

_“You are never alone. Your love with the truest of blue eyes awaits your return.”_

Brea quickly looked up at Fred, finding him watching her and her heart began to beat fast.

“Family matters and?” Fred urged.

Brea forced her eyes away and slammed the door shut on her emotions.

“We should eat and I’ll take first watch.” She said in monotone. “If I’m correct, we have about another day until we arrive at the cave.”

“You mean I have another days hike to the cave. You’re staying here.”

Brea twisted to face him.

“Excuse me?”

Fred wisely hopped up and began to dig out provisions for their meal.

“You’re excused…. But you’re still staying put. With that ankle, you’re in no condition to go ‘search and rescue’ for a dragon.”

Brea stared at him in shock until anger settled in.

“Have you lost your ever loving mind? You are not about to leave me behind while you go gallivanting across where ever only bloody Merlin knows where we are.”

Fred looked over his shoulder with a sly grin.

“Tell me what else the goddess said to you and I’ll carry you all the way there.”

Brea snapped her teeth together and glared.

“Do you not understand how dangerous this is? You have no wand, sloppy swordsmanship, and-“

“Love, it almost sounds like you’re worried for me.”

Brea felt panic edging in.

“You’re damn right! Do you know what it would do to your family- do to me- if something were to happen to you? Fred please… you can’t do this. We’ll find a- a stick and-“

Fred knelt in front of her and held her head between his hands. Brea bit her lip and her stomach twisted at the serious glint in his eyes.

“And you’ll lead the way, one hobbling step after the next, causing yourself more injury? Look at this clearly Brea. As much as it pleases me that you’re worried for me, I mean it, it truly means more to me than you know. But I want to do this. I’m not a child and I’m not weak. Sure I’m not skilled like you with a sword but I have my wits and I know how to get myself out of bad situations.”

Brea felt tears burn her eyes.

“If something happens to you…” she tried to finish her thought but all she could think about was history repeating itself. Of his broken family struggling to put the pieces together again only to find they will never quite fit together again.  “If something happens to you, I will never be able to forgive myself.”

Brea held onto both of his wrists, her eyes pleasing with him to understand.

“I’m begging you Fred-“

Fred silenced her with a hard kiss, his winter cold lips on hers, but all Brea felt was warmth and her eyes slid closed. Everything melted away, her fear, guilt, pain and panic. All that remained was the need to be closer to him, something she had been burying beneath all the rest for days.

All too soon, Fred pulled away slightly.

“That’s the third time you said my name.” His voice was husky and drew Brea’s eyes open. The desire in his eyes was unmistakable. “I have plenty to live for and I plan on coming back.”

Brea’s gaze grazed the wound marring his skin, it had begun to heal but without the aid of magic, undoubtedly it would leave a scar.  Shuttering her emotions she turned away from him until his hands fell away.

“Don’t do that, don’t-“ Fred said but cut off when Brea looked back at him.

“You should rest.” Her tone was hard.

After one last searching look, Fred sighed and stood, continuing his task with an early dinner.

* * *

 

The skies were barely brightening when Brea poked a fur bundled Fred with a stick until he woke up.

“If you’re going then get up and go.”

It wasn’t difficult for Fred to hear the venom in her voice.

“Still upset about the kiss are we? Was it your first?” He said as he stretched his arms over his head and yawned.

She rolled her eyes.

“Tch. You would think that. This isn’t Hogwarts, and it was hardly my first kiss. I’m upset about my sprained ankle.”

Fred flashed a grin.

“But it was the best one you’ve had, right? Try not to think about it too much while I’m gone love. You’ll only talk yourself out of enjoying it. And I just have to remind you that you kissed me back.”

By now Fred had stuffed his furs into his pack and settled it over his shoulder.

“Just follow the river, try not to get yourself killed.”

Fred turned north and took several steps from their camp.

 “And she might be hungry! Take some meat with you!”

“Got it.” Fred said over his shoulder.

“And don’t forget to keep your sword ready. Wrist loose yet firm.”

“Yes Mum!” Fred called out and rolled his eyes.

Once he could no longer see Brea over his shoulder he allowed his anxiousness from its tightly closed cage, and his lips turned into a grim line.

“You’re fucking insane Weasley. But you can do this. You have to.” Fred said to himself.

His worry for Brea, left alone with nothing but a lame ankle and sword was at the forefront of his mind. Not to forget the fact that he was trekking alone through a foreign land, a notoriously dangerous one at that, with his shoddy swordsmanship to keep him alive.

Instead of thinking about all that was wrong with the present situation, he instead replayed his more pleasant memories from the day before, and Fred’s smile came back.

“You’re fucking insane Weasley. But you can do this. You have to.” He repeated.

The hike up the river took most of the day, an hour added to it with when he stopped to hunt for an offering to a potentially very hungry dragon.

The sun was dipping below the trees when Fred stood before a frozen waterfall, his hands on his hips and head tilted back. He could see the edges of a cave opening and sigh in resignations.

“I’m going to have to climb.”

When Fred reached the ledge with the cave entrance he laid on his back, precariously close to the edge, breathing hard. Muscles screamed that he hadn’t used since his days under Oliver Wood’s Quidditch training regime. After several moments, Fred sat up and stared into the dark cave.

“How did a dragon even get in here?” He wondered aloud. Shaking his head he dug a torch packed for him by his Viking host and snapped his fingers.

“See there Creepy? Wandless isn’t nearly as unpredictable as you seem to believe.” He said as flames grew on the oiled cloth.

Taking a deep breath Fred slowly stepped into the cave listening for signs of life. He followed the wall until he came to a fork in the tunnel.

“Well now… I’m right handed so let’s go that way.”

He shivered. Despite the flame in his hand, the already frozen temperatures plummeted the further he went in. He felt like he had been walking in the dark cave for ages when his ears finally picked up the sounds of voices. Immediately he went on alert but followed the sounds. He noticed the temperature beginning to rise and he welcomed the warmth.

At last the tunnel opened into a massive room and revealed a jaw dropping sight. The room was dome shaped and must have been large enough for three Quidditch pitches. A wide opening in the roof revealed a starry sky.

Down below, deep into the cavern were countless burning torches lining the walls and in the center lay a small dragon covered in silver scales, the torch light turning them to brilliant shades of red and gold.

‘I see how she must have found her way inside… but why does she stay?”

Fred’s question was answered when she shifted one of her rear legs and revealed a thick chain shackled around it. The sound of chanting filled the dome and Fred searched the darkness for the source. None were revealed.

Swallowing nervously Fred thought quickly to come up with a plan of escape. He followed the chain to a hook in the wall. Unhappily he realized he would need to climb down the wall, make his way around the edge of the room and unhook the chain, freeing the dragon. Then came the escape.

 _“So that one may fly with the Last of her Kind, One will have to fall.”_ The whisper echoed through his mind and his eyes widened along with his smile.

“Alright then. Let’s take a little ride shall we?” He whispered and tossed his torch aside.

Fred had just lowered himself over the edge, his tired muscles resisting the strain, when a shout echoed through the room. Startled by the sudden noise, Fred’s hands slipped from their hold and he fell the rest of the way, landing heavily on his left shoulder.

The snap of bone filled his head and searing pain burned from his fingertips to his neck. After a moment of blinking back the pain the sound of footsteps and metal on metal could be heard. With a groan he rolled to his feet, his right hand holding his left arm in order to hold it still. Once he stood she shook his hair out of his eyes and weakly drew his sword.

By now he had the undivided attention of the dragon. She watched him with darkly glittering eyes and a loud rumble escaped her throat.

“Easy there, look, I’m here to rescue you. I’ve even brought a midnight snack.” Fred leaned his sword on against the rocky wall and fumbled with a rabbit tied to his sword belt. Once he had freed it he held it out and tossed it gently to her. “While you enjoy the treat I’m going to free you from the wall.”

He held his breath as the little dragon sniffed her prize.

“There now, shall we?” he said and picked up his sword.

Before he could take more than a handful of steps one of the dragons captors stepped into the torch light, his gleaming sword held high. Fred thought quickly, knowing he had little chance with his weakened and inexperienced skills.

The man swung, catching Fred off guard and he paid for it with a cut across his arm. The second swing he managed to deflect off but stumbled backwards.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Fred yelled out and held his good hand up after dropping his sword. “You seem like a- a man who enjoys tricks.” The man took a step toward Fred, but Fred only moved toward the dragon, never breaking eye contact with the warrior. “How’s a magic trick hmm?” Fred closed his eyes in concentration and snapped his fingers, the cavern went black as the torches were extinguished.

Quickly, amid shouts in another language, Fred rushed to the dragon’s chain and followed it to the wall. It was heavy but slid up and over the hook smoothly. The moment it was free he ran back to the dragon. The thought crossed his mind that she could easily cause him more harm than the Vikings but he took his chances with her.

“Alright now, I’m going to hop onto your back and you’re part is to get us up and through that opening.”

The dragon rumbled and Fred took that as agreement and quickly settled himself as best he could. He scrambled to hold on with his one arm as she flapped her wings and they rose into the air. Fred ducked his head and closed his eyes as one of her wingtips caught the edge of the cavern, causing rocks to crumble and fall.

When he felt the warm stale air turn to fresh and cold he opened his eyes. He and the dragon were free.

“I know you’re going to want to fly back to your people but first we must make a quick stop. There’s someone we need to pick up.” Fred called over the rushing wind as they rose higher and higher. “Follow the river, if you please.”

Fred truly felt mad as he sat there, speaking to a dragon of all creatures but it was as if she understood and turned south.

The trip back to the camp was much faster and within the hour Fred could make out the glow of Brea’s campfire and the knot in his stomach released. The moment the dragon touched down, landing outside of the firelight, Fred slid off and rushed toward Brea as she struggled to raise to her feet.

Without hesitation he wrapped his good arm around her waist and pulled her to him. She gave a startled yelp but held him just as tightly as he held her.

“You’re alive, you’re ok.” She said against his shoulder.

Fred buried his face in her hair.

“I did it, I flew with the last of her kind. You fell so that I wouldn’t have a choice. The prophecy was true.”

Brea leaned back to look him over.

“Never mind that, are you alright? What happened?”

Fred reluctantly helped her back to her log. The ease of adrenaline allowed the burning pain in his arm to flare up uncontrollably.

“Nothing a bit of skellegrow won’t be able to fix once we get home.” Fred looked toward the waiting dragon. “There she is, the last of her kind. I suspect the cave was her den and a group of Vikings happened across her. They chained her to the cavern wall and worshipped her if I were to guess.”

Brea frowned.

“This seems rather… staged.”

“Why do you say that?”

Brea shook her head.

“It’s just a feeling I have. Ignore me. Are you sure you’ll be alright flying back?”

Fred held his hand down to her and grunted as he pulled her back to standing.

“Without a doubt.”

With difficulty the two managed to settle on the dragon. Having two working arms meant Brea could sit in the front and hold steady with Fred’s one arm wrapped securely around her waist.

“As insane as this little adventure has been… I almost don’t want to go back.” Fred said in her ear as they flew through the starry sky.

“Why’s that?” She called over her shoulder.

‘Because you’ll only leave again.’ Fred thought to himself but aloud he said, “I just have my reasons.”

They flew for hours toward the ocean village, racing the rise of the sun, but at last the village peeked through the hills. When the dragon landed in the center of the village, people poured from their homes amid cheers and laughter.

Fred and Brea were helped from the dragons back and passed from person to person, offered embraces and words they could only assume were of gratitude. Fred did his best to shield his broken arm from the painful jostling but he was nearing the end of his patience.

At last they reached the Viking elder and the crowd fell silent as he regarded them with smiles and tears in his eyes. He nodded to them both and handed their wands back to them. Brea sighed in relief before looking for her bag. Once the Viking woman handed it to her she pulled Brea in for a quick embrace and repeated the action with Fred.

“Come one Fred.” Brea said quietly and he helped her to the edge of the village. He watched her close her eyes for a long moment, before the familiar jagged opening appeared in the early morning air. They didn’t look back as they stepped into another time.

The next ten hours were the longest of Fred’s life as he and Brea made their way from middle-of -nowhere Scandinavia back to Diagon Alley. Brea charmed a few pebbles to look like local muggle money for the ferry, promising to send proper money the moment she could.

The village they had left behind had been erased from time, all traces of their adventure were gone except for a few bumps and scrapes.

Their trip home was mostly in silence, both too tired and hungry to do nothing more than watch the waves for dry land. The received more than their fair share of curious stares and whispers with their dirty furs and limping walks. Brea had managed to heal his arm enough that he could use it and bandaged he wound from the sword and he did the same for her ankle.

“I think I got us to the day after you dumped Charlie on me.” Brea said as she slid into one of the empty chairs at a table. She made quite the sight with her dirty hair and his blood smeared across her cheek from his embrace. He knew he must not look much better.

“Tom, we’ll have a plate with as much ham as you’ve got back there.” Fred called wearily and joined Brea. She sat with her eyes locked on the fur of one of her gloves before she pulled them off, her ring still on her finger.

“What made you return? Why come back to Diagon Alley the first time?” Fred asked after their food arrived.

Brea stabbed a slice of meat with her fork and shoved in a large mouthful. When she swallowed she looked at him.

“I won the deed to that old house in a poker game. Then wizards I won it from seemed… distraught at having lost it. My curiosity took it as a sign. I hadn’t planned on returning so soon but circumstances called me sooner.”

“And… you need a job.” He said, licking his lips nervously.

She looked away and took another bite.

“Perhaps.” She said vaguely.

Fred let her eat in silence after that, his own hunger taking over. When they were done filling their bellies for the first time since their wedding feast, Fred walked her to the pile of rubble she called a house. The two stood in the street staring at the empty building.

“I don’t think I need to ask but I will anyway… please don’t tell anyone about what happened.” She looked up at him with a concerned frown. “Well except for George I suppose.”

When Brea took a step away Fred panicked and quickly grabbed her wrist, pulling her back to him. She fell against his chest and looked up at him with wide golden eyes.

“Don’t go anywhere ok? Just… stay. For a little while?” Fred tried to keep the desperation from his voice but the moment he had been dreading for hours had arrived. The moment when she could disappear and he’d never see her again.

He could see the conflicting emotions in her expressive eyes, the uncertainty and a hint of her own desperation. She licked her lips and pulled herself back a step.

“For a little while.” She whispered before turning away and entering the house.

Fred watched her with a smile before crossing the street and entering his brightly lit shop.

George looked up at the sound of the door opening and his jaw dropped at the sight of his twin brother’s appearance.

“What in Merlin’s soggy bottoms happened to you?” he cried out loudly. “You’ve been missing for hours! What happened with your creepy one true love?”

Fred grinned and rubbed the back of his neck before holding his left hand up, the gold band gleaming in the light.

“I married her.”

 


	60. Daughter of Mars

Daughter of Mars

_A sunny breeze swished my skirt around my ankles and twisted my hair. I felt my pointy velvet hat shift precariously upon my head so I quickly lifted a hand to hold it steady. The warmth upon my cheeks called for me to tilt my head back, soaking up all the light that I could. For that moment I closed my eyes and smiled._

_When the moment had passed I opened my eyes toward the blue sky and gasped in delight._

_All around me brightly colored leaves sprinkled from their trees, carried by the sunny breeze. I could no more deny myself the pleasure of spinning with the leaves than I could deny my need to breath, my laughter dancing along with me._

_When I had exhausted my breath I stopped spinning and simply admired the beauty surrounding me. I commit to memory the green grass, and the faint scent of rain in the distance. I felt a pang of sadness as I realized something was missing._

_I was here, on this beautiful day, alone._

_The sudden warmth of fingers sliding around mine elicited a startled gasp and drew my gaze. I studied the hand with crisp curiosity and found slim fingers, just a tad on the long side… or perhaps that was just in comparison to my own. There were multiple thin scars and what looked to be a smudge of soot._

_My smile returned. I wasn’t alone after all._

_“You should have never meddled with time girl.”_

_My smile melted at the words whispered so quietly, they could have been wind. The stench of rot assailed my senses, causing my stomach to twist painfully._

_It took all the strength that I could muster to pull my eyes from my study of the hand holding mine, to drag my gaze up an arm covered in a warm plaid shirt._

_I had hoped to find vibrant blue eyes that sparkled with mischief._

_Instead I found a glassy gaze, devoid of all life._

* * *

 

A gasping Brea sat up abruptly, her eyes wild and her head aching. It took her a moment to remember where she was, that it had only been a dream. A dream that had begun quite nicely… but with everything in her life, had taken a cruel twist.

Feeling relief melt through her blood she sat on her sleeping bag and held her face in her palms.

“It had been so real. I can still smell the…” she couldn’t finish.

She was pulled from her dreams by a sound coming from the floor below her. Dropping her hands she sighed in dread.

“Wait here Gred, this had better not take long.”

Brea pushed herself to her feet and shook out her last remaining skirt that wasn’t caked with dust. Last she whipped a woolen tartan from her sleeping bag and wrapped it around her shoulders and eased her way down the stairs.

“I know I changed time somewhat, but I’m rather certain that manners- albeit pureblood ones, haven’t changed. What are you doing in here?” Brea didn’t bother to hide her irritation when she found the impeccably dressed Lucius standing near the fireplace.

“Mmm quite, however seeing as we are family, and I have come to see you in regards to a family matter… my tutor will understand.”

“In that case, I must prioritize some wards for my humble abode.”

Brea watched as he raised his wand and started a fire before he cast another appraising eye around the room.

“Interesting accommodations. I take it by the frivolous way you flaunted your meddling, that we are alone?” Lucius murmured with a raised brow.

Brea flicked a look toward where Charlie’s room would be.

“Mr. Weasley has work. Now what is it Lucius?”

With his expression remaining unchanged, Lucius pulled a rolled parchment from inside his robes.

“I’ve just concluded business with my solicitor. Cost me no small amount of coin, however a great less than I would have gained.”

The relief that Lucius, the controlling manipulator that he is, actually pulled through, nearly melted Brea’s heart.

“However cousin, regardless of the girls’ birth, she will not lay a finger on a single Malfoy coin.”

“I doubt she would want to in the first place. I leave that battle to be between yourself and your heir.”

Lucius shoved the parchment and his wand back into his robe and strode for the doorway before he stopped abruptly. He grasped his head with both hands and drew in a deep breath.

Brea took a step toward him but was stopped by the hard glare he shot her. It was then that she noticed the pain in his eyes, the dark shadows beneath them and the grey tint to his skin.

“They are calling for you. I upheld my end of the bargain. If the foolish happiness of my son and his muggleborn is truly important to you, then I advise you on keeping to your word.”

Brea sighed at the pitiful portrait he made.

“Of course I will Lucius. It must be painful for you… I will ask our ancestors to pass their future messages on to me instead of you.”

“I don’t require your pity, Fox.” Lucius gave her an icy stare before looking past her. “The memories… they do not help matters either.”

Brea almost dropped her blanket from around her shoulders as Lucius spoke to her with something almost akin to familiarity.

“The memories?” she asked.

“I am living with three lifetimes of memories. It is often difficult to separate them.”

“I don’t understand… three?”

“Indeed. My original timeline in which you had yet to be created. The timeline in which you grew up at Hogwarts, with Lord Voldemort still at large. And then there is our current line in which Tom Riddle disappeared before ever graduating Hogwarts.”

“And all these memories… they create pain for you?”

“I know that you have been skipping about in time, prying into it when you shouldn’t be. Lucky for you that those moments have been insignificant on my memories, I would however advise you to cease your interference.”

Brea pondered his words as he swished his robe behind him and made to leave. A sudden thought occurred with a rush.

“Do you think there might be others?”

“Others?” Lucius said over his shoulder.

“Yes. Others that remember.”

A sneering smile twisted his lips.

“For your sake… you had better hope that I alone remember.”

And with those words ringing in her mind, Lucius disapperated from her steps.

Brea scrubbed both hands over her face, and made a plan for her day. 

* * *

 

After a quick breakfast of coffee and muffins, Brea buttoned into her boots and favorite velvet coat. She quickly plaited her hair and pinned down her hat.

Once deeming herself ready she hunched down by the heap of blanket left near the fireplace and gave Forge a quick pat and a promise to be back soon.

The moment she closed the front door behind her she was assailed with a greeting from across the street.

“Hullo!”

Brea closed her eyes a moment.

“I was hoping to see you today.”

When she opened them again she found a widely grinning George Weasley leaning against her fence.

“How funny, as I was hoping to not see any Weasleys today.”

George’s grin only widened and he held the rickety gate open for her to walk through.

“Seeing as not only do you live with one, another two across the street… oh yes and apparently married one of those particular two…”

Brea sighed and looked away from George, squinting at the sun to determine its position in the sky.

“He told you about that did he.”

George slung an arm around her shoulder and began to steer her down the street.

“Indeed he did. The whole little adventure the two of you went on.”

“Look… my abilities are… unique. Your brother-“

“Yes, yes, my brother. Exactly who I want to talk about. He fancies himself in love with you.”

Brea stopped walking not only because of George’s words but the threatening way he said them. George himself, turned to face her. His expression was serious, much like from her memories as a girl.

“You don’t seem like the type to allow yourself such freedoms, so I’ll take the moment to give you the protective brother speech. I won’t have his heart broken by you or anyone.”

She drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, taking the moment to gather her thoughts.

“Fred is the last person in all of time that I would seek to harm. But you’re right. I don’t allow myself such freedoms. Falling in love with Fred… going on lovely walks and laughing over family dinners and family fights… it would be incredibly easy for me to want that life.” Brea looked away from his steady gaze. “Which is why I shall be on my way.”

“To where?”

Brea smile didn’t reach her eyes, and she still didn’t meet his gaze.

“Not to anywhere or when you would like. Wonderful big brother speech.”

“Look… if you would like to stay- to be a part of our family and make him happy then I’ll gladly welcome you as a sister. But if that’s not what you’re here for…”

Brea’s stomach clenched painfully at the promise she’d just made to Fred mere hours before ran through her mind.

“No George you’re absolutely right. I didn’t come here to- to fall in with your brother. It was a mistake to come back, a weakness on my part that I plan to rectify once my business here has concluded.”

George shoved his hands into his pockets and gave her a grim nod.

“I’ll let you get back to it then.”

“Goodbye George.”

“See ya Brea.”

She met his gaze one last moment before she disapperated.

When she appeared once more, she immediately turned her gaze towards Tom’s marker.

“Good morning Tom.” She whispered then closed her eyes. When she opened them, a doorway leading to an impossible place waited for her, beckoning her.

Brea closed her hands into fists and stepped through.

* * *

 

“Fred… what are you doing?” Charlie asked, amazement colored his voice.

Fred flicked his wand and nodded, satisfied when a hammer lifted and began to follow its give command of hammering in nails.

“Ah, wonderful. Charlie, can you lend a hand and help me get these walls painted. I don’t know when she will be back but I’d like it to be done before she does.”

“Allow me to clear my throat and repeat.” Charlie paused and firmly cleared his throat. “Fred… what are you doing?”

“Just a bit of home repair for the missus.” Fred opened a can of paint and charmed a paint brush.

Charlie’s eyebrows lifted at the bright red color.

“Really? That color is more appropriate on a muggle fire engine.”

“I know! Brilliant right? I hope she likes it.”

Charlie narrowed his eyes and finally stepped from the doorway, slipping his robe from his shoulders. Everywhere he looked there was some object or other charmed to a task. The floor was a patchwork of new wood and old, the windows were being scrubbed and putty spread across holes in the ceiling.

“I should go get mum. She would faint to see all the work you’re doing. Which… why are you doing this again?”

Fred looked over his shoulder and winked mysteriously.

“Just being neighborly. Also, can’t have my favorite brother falling ill because he was living in a moldy house. There’s a stew in the kitchen. Nicked it from George’s.”

Charlie shook his head and charmed a paintbrush to join Fred’s.

“This isn’t going to work you know.”

“Why do you say that? I’m simply making things safer in here, brightening it up a bit.”

“Just call it a feeling. What’s that?”

Fred followed his brother’s gaze to the pygmy puff he’d moved from the floor to a basket.

“A pygmy puff.”

Fred didn’t go into detail about the little creature, mainly because he didn’t have them all.

“It isn’t moving.”

Fred felt the blood drain from his face at his brothers words and he rushed to the basket.

“What’s the meaning of this?”

Fred closed his eyes at the sound of Brea’s voice. Dread for what was to come in mere moments twisted his stomach.

He turned, watching her silently as her gaze wandered across the room.

“I was hoping to surprise you.” Fred managed to get out past his clenched throat.

She let out a dry laugh and shook her head.

“Surprised I certainly am, but really? Red?”

From the corner of his eyes he noticed Charlie slipping toward the stairs.

“Is there another color you would prefer?”

Brea watched a handful of nails line up along a floorboard before meeting his gaze.

“Nah… It’s perfect.”

He wanted to be relieved that she enjoyed his choice of wall color, or that she didn’t seem to mind that he’d intruded in her home and messed about but he just couldn’t. After a moment of silence he noticed the smile that graced her lips fell.

“What’s wrong Fred?”

“Wrong? Why do you believe anything is-“

“You’re looking at me as if something terrible has happened.”

Fred rubbed a hand over his face, searching for words. Instead she spoke first.

“Look- George has already spoken with me and-“

“George talked with you?”

“Yes… and look- I know I mentioned staying-“

“Brea, he’s dead.” Fred blurted in a rush, no longer able to keep the knowledge to himself.

A look of horror crossed her face.

“George- is-?”

Fred pinched his nose, cursing himself for mucking it all up.

“No! No- not George.” Fred took a deep breath, let his hand fall back to his side, and met her confused amber eyes. “Brea- I’m so sorry… your pygmy puff…” Fred found he couldn’t finish the words so he stepped to the side and gestured toward the basket.

He flinched at the sound of her cry of surprise, watched as in an instant she was knelt beside the basket and reaching inside with trembling hands.

“He was alive when I arrived, and I moved him into the basket so he would be safe. I never meant this- I’m sorry-“ Fred cut off when she stiffened her shoulders.

“It’s alright Fred, I know it wasn’t you’re fault… he was quite old.”

Fred nodded though she couldn’t see. A thousand questions ran through his mind but instead of giving them voice, he held his tongue and listened to the sound of tools completing their tasks. He watched as Brea slipped her pointed hat from her head, studied the soft way she ran a hand across the little puffs fur.

He’d known about the creature, her companion had been with them during their adventure, however she never introduced them.

When she stood, the pygmy puff cupped in her hands, she turned and looked at him.

“I’m going to bury him.” She said in a voice devoid of emotion, a sound that left him nervous.

“I’m coming with you.”

He could see the urge to argue flash through her eyes but it only lasted for a moment. Now she looked exhausted and sad and she held a hand out towards him.

* * *

 

For the second time that day, Brea arrived at Tom’s resting place, only this time Fred was at her side. The moment of their arrival, she forced her hand to release his and with mechanical movements, almost as if she were under the Imperious again, she set about producing a shovel and burying her dear companion.

She placed him to rest next to Tom, and struggled to remain numb.

“Tom Riddle? I suppose you met him when you traveled to the forty’s?”

Brea wanted to snap angrily at Fred that she didn’t wish to talk about Tom with him, but then a thought occurred to her. She was leaving anyways, so what did it matter.

“I did.”

“Must’ve been important to you if this is where you brought your little puff to be buried.”

“He was.”

“First kiss important?”

Brea smiled briefly at Fred’s feigned nonchalance, running her gaze over Tom’s name

“Important, but no… not first kiss important. Tom was… beautiful. The sort of cruel beautiful that holds you captive and twists you up inside until you want to do terrible things, just so that he’ll continue to allow you to do those terrible things.”

“Sounds like a delightful bloke. You sound almost as if you idolized him.”

“Brilliant, cold, terrible… yes. Delightful, he was not.” Brea shook her head with a huff. “I thought myself above his darkness, above falling under his spell. But upon meeting Tom, I found that I was not as immune as I believed myself to be.”

Brea felt herself drawing dangerously close to telling Fred everything. She wanted to. Perhaps she needed someone else besides Lucius to know that she had stopped something terrible from happening. Perhaps she was merely exhausted from the mental war that battled within her.

“How far in the future are you from?”

Brea lifted startled eyes to Fred’s. He shrugged at her look.

“I can remember every pygmy puff George and I have sold, and your friend there, was not one of them. That leaves me to believe that either someone else out there stole our breeding techniques, or he’s yet to be born. And you said that he was old. George and I aren’t even certain as to how long they actually live yet.”

Brea shook her head and smiled ruefully.

“Ah the legendary hidden brilliance of a Weasley. Let’s see… what year is it again?”

“1998.”

“Right. I was born in December of 1999. I met Fo- Mr. Puff, when I was eleven.”

“Fascinating. And how old are you now?”

Brea couldn’t help it, she laughed.

“Here I stand, after an incredibly difficult day, burying one of my oldest companions, talking about a very dark period of my life, and you inquire about my age? Did your mother not teach you anything?”

“By the time George an I came along, she’d long since given up. And I figure there are a few things a wizard should know about his wife. Why was your day difficult?”

Brea ignored his grin and rolled her eyes.

“We are not truly married-“

“No need for specifics. All I did was ask your age.”

Brea frowned as she struggled to count the years.

“Early twenties? Sorry that’s the best that I can do. Age truly has no meaning when you can go to any time. My day was just… a lot to handle.”

“Can you go into the future from here?”

Brea narrowed her eyes at him.

“Oh look the sun is setting, I should return you before your I.T. has my head.”

Fred chuckled and shook his head.

“I think I can apparate myself back to home but before we do… you mentioned him earlier. George spoke to you?”

Brea sighed and watched the sinking sun.

“Gave me the -don’t break my brothers heart- speech.”

“Ah yes, I’ve given that one myself. How did it go?”

Brea was silent for a moment, pondering the amount of honesty she had left within her.

“I suppose you would like the truth?”

“You suppose correctly.”

Brea turned to look at him squarely.

“Fred… we hardly know each other...” She trailed off when Fred rolled his eyes and set his hands to his hips. “He mentioned your feelings, made some accurate observations about me, and I put his mind at ease that I had no wish to hurt you.”

“How typically vague of you. Did you happen to mention your feelings towards me?”

Brea felt herself locking up at his question, at the hurt in his eyes. However before her walls were fully reinforced she allowed them to crumble, her need for him to understand her was all consuming.

“How do you not see the same person that he does Fred? When we see you, the both of us see someone who’s full of energy and life. You practically burn like the sun whenever I look at you. You are so incredibly alive- and of course he and I… we love you for it. How could we not? But as for myself Fred? How do you not see the darkness in me? Because George could. He’s right to warn me away from you because this-“ Brea jerked a hand toward the two graves”-is what happens when I love. I destroy it with my own hands.”

His expression was unreadable as he listened to her and when she finished he stepped closer until she had to tilt her head back to see him. She wanted to beg him not to when she saw him lift his hands, knew that he was going to touch her, but she couldn’t find the words so she remained still and closed her eyes when he cupped both hands around her cheeks.

“Someday, you’ll tell me why you and my brother look at me with fear in your eyes. Someday, you’ll realize that I’m not the fragile saint that you’re fond of making me sound like. Someday, you’ll stop running and someday- which is actually right this moment, I’ll bring up the fact that I stopped listening after you said that you love me.”

Brea’s eyes snapped open and she stared at him in shock.

“What? I did not!”

Fred grinned and nodded.

“You did.”

“But- that’s not- I was talking about love… not you know… _love_ love.”

Fred batted his eye lashes at her. “Doesn’t matter- still counts.” He quickly pecked her on the lips and spun away. “Brea and Fred, sittin in a tree-“

He sang at the top of his lungs before he left her standing there in shock and disapperated. A moment later when she had her bearings she followed pursuit, determined to clear up his obviously mistaken assumptions.

“First comes love, second comes-“

“Fred Weasley! Shut up! I do _not_ love you!” Brea yelled the moment she heard his continuation of his rendition of the childhood song. She failed to notice their position in the middle of Diagon Alley.

“I’ll only stop if you agree to come to dinner tomorrow. You can tell me again how you burn for me like the sun.”

Brea poked him in the shoulder. “That is not what I said. And I’m mortified enough that I’m quite certain that I can never look at you again. Or any of your family, since I’m certain you all look alike. Matter of fact, I’m going to turn Charlie out on his ear right now.”

Fred shook his head sadly. “That didn’t sound like part of my offer so here we go.” He drew in a deep breath. “Second comes marriage-“ he tried to sing around the hand she pressed against his lips but when it came out a garbled mess he quickly twisted away from her and wrapped his arms around her from behind. “Then comes-“

“Fred! No!” Brea tried to wiggle from his arms but dissolved into giggles at his off key singing.

“-baby in a baby carriage! Fred and-”

“Alright I’ll go just- please stop that awful singing.” Brea tried to keep a straight face as she met the astonished faces of several passerby’s. “I apologize dear citizens of Diagon Alley- this man escaped recently from St. Mungos and-“

“Alright- that’ll suffice. I have a reputation as a reputable businessman to uphold you know.”

Brea rolled her eyes. “Then put me down.” A blush stole across her cheeks when she felt his chin brush across the curve of her neck.

“That seems like an impossible task.”

“I must return to the house Fred. I have an early morning.” Brea said quietly and pulled away. At his curious look she elaborated. “I found a part time job, and goblins are quite irritable when you’re late.”

“Congratulation’s! You could still come work at the shop you know…”

“Thank you. After my earlier business, I at last found a help wanted advertisement… by the way I don’t think working in the same vicinity as you is a wise decision.”

“Because you can’t keep your hands off me?”

Brea huffed and reached for her gate.

“I spend enough time around you lot as it is. The goblins at Gringott’s will be a welcome change.” When Fred went to follow her into the house she pressed a hand against his chest. “Nope, no Fred Weasleys allowed inside at this time.”

Fred answered with a grin and a pointed look toward her hand.

“See couldn’t go twelve seconds without touching me.”

Brea narrowed her eyes, but before she could retaliate, Fred pressed a quick kiss to her hair and jauntily turned away.

“See you tomorrow for dinner!” were his last words before he disappeared into the darkened alley by his shop.

Not long afterward Brea laid in the darkness of her room, her thoughts racing.

_‘I’m making a mistake… I should have ignored him the moment he demanded to accompany me. Oh Forge what am I to do? So long you had been with me… And now I’m torn with the loss of you, and how easily I give Fred all of my secrets.’_

Brea tried to suppress the glimmer of happiness, at the warmth that spread through her blood and the lightness that came with it, but she smiled regardless of her efforts. Despite her sadness, Fred had made her laugh and yearn.

She pressed her eyes closed and focused on going to sleep.

It took time, and many replays of Fred in varying stages of smiling, but she did drift off, only to find her visit to her mother consuming her- something that she had blocked from her mind for as long as she could manage.

_“My daughter… it pains me to have failed you. Where you succeeded, and saved many from the wrath of a rage filled heart, I have failed to give you the happiness you so deserve… Time remembers however. The Fates weaved the destiny and you rewrote their tapestry.”_

_“You mean, all I have done, is to delay the inevitable? Everyone I love-“_

_“No, the Fates can be appeased. They will allow this defilement of their tapestry… but with conditions that will not come easy.”_

_“Tell me. I’ll do what I must.”_

_“There is one who remembers. One who seeks to tear your success in half and bring about a war of which will burn away all innocence. This warrior of Orion must burn before the longest night, the night of your arrival.”_

_“After this… will it finally be over?”_

_“I can only promise that those who now live when once they fell, will not meet their once fate.”_

_“…I want to know of my father.”_

_“…. My daughter…. There are some who were saved because of you, some who were born…. And some who were not…”_

_“…”_

_“…”_

_“Did he have… have a family?”_

_“While his parents did not meet… did not find love, his uncle’s line lives on.”_

_“I’d like to know them.”_

_“Knowing them will only bring you pain. However… You are a Daughter of Mars... If you so wish to follow his line… this choice will be yours.”_

_“What happens when the time of my birth arrives?”_

_“…”_

_“Is that why you chose him?”_

“…”

_“You are cruel. Perhaps the Fates had the right of it.”_

_“You are angry, understandable. If you would take this one piece of motherly wisdom… Love makes us strong. With it, you have defied Orion and the Fates, changed lives and the world they call home. With it, all things are possible.”_

* * *

 

The next morning Brea arose before dawn filled with determination and purpose. As she stirred her coffee she made a new list.

“Alright Gred… Step one, begin my new job. Step two, research warriors of Orion. Step three, research descendants of Mars. Step four, find out this houses history. Step five- find out what I changed and fix it if I can… Step six… prepare for my inevitable death.” She drew a deep sigh and leaned back against the counter. “Do I avoid becoming a part of everyone’s lives, or do I give into the draw and allow myself one last year of happiness?”

The sound of creaking floors coming from above alerted her to the presence of a Weasley, spurring her to finish the hot coffee with a long gulp and depart.

A short time later, her hair covered in a handkerchief, Brea charmed a duster to sweep at a doorframe deep in the hallways of Gringotts.

“Excuse me, I just need a moment to enter the office.” A voice came from behind her and startled, Brea jumped to the side. A flash of bright red hair drew her gaze and for a moment her heart began to race. It was with a shake of her head that a moment later she realized that it was not in fact Fred but a different Weasley all together, one she had never met.

He flashed her a charming smile and entered the office she had been blocking.

The shiny name plate on the door read _“William Weasley – Curse breaker”_ and Brea smiled.

“I can’t seem to escape them.” She whispered and her path became clear.

* * *

 

Across London, Platform 9 ¾ was awhirl with activity as students waved goodbye to parents and hauled their trunks onto the Express.

From across the prefect’s compartment a witch with wild hair and bright eyes smiled at a wizard with perfectly parted hair and a cocky grin. A copy of the Daily Prophet lay forgotten on the seat next to her, the bold headline however was not.

“Malfoy Dissolves All Marital Contracts Involving Malfoy Heir”

 

 

 

 


	61. Shatter

 

 

 

A soft smile that spoke of fondness spread across Brea’s lips as she stood before the gate of her new home, her eyes sweeping over every detail once more. It looked different on a day full of sunshine rather than darkened skies. The glass glimmered, having shown great improvement after Fred’s surprising handiness the day before.

With her thoughts once more on Fred, Brea shook her head ruefully and shifted her overloaded arms and managed to squeeze through the gate. Her arms were over laden with every book on Greek mythology and history that she could find at the bookstore next door, a large glass bottle with her now miniature _Sea Witch_ corked inside, and every possession of hers in her well-worn bag.

Her first day of work had gone surprisingly well, the beginnings of a half formed plan for the remaining nineteen months of her life were taking root, and a filling lunch had put Brea in a surprisingly good mood. She’d expected to feel no small amount of melancholy after the passing of one of her last remaining ties to her former life, or of learning that her life had an expiration date that was very near at hand.

Instead, almost guiltily so, she felt relieved that Gred had moved on. It couldn’t have been easy on the little creature to follow her around. She’d loved him dearly, missed him, even spoke to him as she went about her duties at Gringott’s. She’d received more than one arched look as she told Forge about her confusing thoughts on her future.

Her life however… she could admit that she was weary and exhausted. Weary of being in emotional hell. Afraid of the people that had forgotten her, that no longer loved her. She wasn’t certain if she deserved any amount of happiness… it was almost a forgotten feeling for her.

The house was quite as she stumbled through the door and into the main room. With sunny spring light shining through, the bright red walls were warm and welcoming. As gently as possible she settled all her worldly possessions in the center of the floor and stood there, surveying all the work to be done.

Fred had done her a service… for the most part. There were piles of new lumber, scattered assortment of tools, and paint cans in various stages of use. Cleaning up had been the last thing on her mind the night before. The improvement in floor stability, lack of mold, and over all look of the old house spurred Brea into work.

She made a mental note to tell Fred that she could handle the repairs from here on. Though she knew the house would never look as glorious as it must have once, she was determined to turn it into a home. With a few flicks and swishes from her wand, she had the tools once again focused on their purpose and turned her own attention toward unpacking.

She didn’t have much to call her own but each item she unpacked, the memories came with it.

The enchanted painting of the three foxes found a home above the fireplace. Her books rested in stacks until a bookcase could be brought in. Her quiver, bow, and sword waited in a rack on a freshly painted wall, ready to be of use. The _Sea Witch_ would join the books but for now would stay out of the way in her trunk.

She hung the hammock that she’d slept in when aboard the _Sea Witch_ for these past years in a corner of her room with her trunk next to it for a table. Blankets and pillows were piled on it and her dream catcher from Lootah hung above.

As she found a place for the chairs, table, and kitchen supplies that usually were kept in the tent she made a mental list of furniture she would need to procure when Gringotts issued her first payment.

“A wardrobe, book shelves- make that two. Couches, tables- oh! A swing to hang on the back porch. I had better get started on a garden too! A piano would also be just the thing… Oh it’ll be marvelous.” The more she spoke, the more she bubbled with excitement until she couldn’t hold back the little spin and clapped her hands.

She stumbled back in surprise when she found Charlie standing behind her with a grin and twinkling eyes.

“Charlie Weasley!”

He held up hands defensively and shook his head.

“I made plenty of noise coming in. I think you were just so busy with making plans that you forgot to listen.” He shoved hands into his pockets and nodded as he surveyed her work. “Coming together I see and you even unpacked! I take it that means you plan to stick around?”

Brea looked away and shrugged with a touch of bashfulness. “For a minute at least.” She listened as his footsteps moved towards the weapons rack.

“Sounded like you were listing furniture. I’ve unpacked a few things for my room but I do have quite a bit from my old place. I can set it up if you like?”

Brea couldn’t explain the reason for the blush that spread across her cheeks except as part of her leftover crush from her childhood. She quickly flicked her gaze at him and told herself that she was being silly. _So what if he tamed dragons for a living_ … she sighed and considered his offer instead.

“I want you to feel at home- of course… but I wouldn’t feel right. You’re only staying here temporarily I imagine…”

Charlie didn’t reply and instead gave an inquisitive gesture toward the weapons. “You use these?”

Brea smiled, trying to ignore the pride that threatened her as he examined the hawk feather that decorated the bow. “Only when necessary.”

“Wicked.” He whispered before turning toward the stairs. “Well I’m off to clean up for dinner.”

At his mention of dinner, Brea perked up a bit and watched him leave.

“Dinner with Fred… I hope whatever he’s home cooking is decidedly better than his campfire meals.” She spared a glance down at her dusty skirt and scuffed boots. “I need to get washing done… fortunately it’s only Fred and he’s seen me in much worst.”

Brea trudged upstairs to her room and began to gather her soiled clothes into a pile and carried them down to the kitchen. Peeking just over the mound overflowing in her arms she found Charlie once more standing before the fireplace.

He was stooped over and peering inside.

“Everything alright?” She asked while adjusting her hold, feeling something beginning to slip.

“Is the fireplace connected to the floo network? Oh! Here let me help with that.”

Brea sidestepped his outstretched arms and hurried toward the kitchen.

“That’s quite alright but I have this, thank you.” She said with more bite than she meant and dropped everything in the middle of the floor before turning back to a bewildered Charlie. “Uhhh no, I don’t believe so.” Brea frowned at the fireplace. If she were to be honest, she’d never used one before. “How does one – um- go about doing- something like that?” she asked haltingly.

“A long, painful, meeting with my brother Percy- or well one of his secretaries that is- at the Ministry.”

Brea nodded along.

“Ah right. Ministry. Of Magic?” Charlie raised a brow, alerting Brea to just how odd she was sounding. “Of course. So! I was just about to wash laundry. Do- do you need anything washed?” Brea closed her eyes as he continued to watch her strangely. “Apologies, not sure why- you know what… it does _not_ matter. I’ll not be touching your belongings, and will stop by the Ministry to connect the floo as soon as possible. Tomorrow! Now, I’ll leave you be. Have a lovely evening.”

“Right… I’ll hop over to the twins and use their floo… See you in a bit.” Charlie stepped toward the door then turned back toward her. “It’s ok if you’re nervous meeting Mum. Sure she’s a little rough on any girl one of us brings home but she comes around eventually. Ta.” He gave a last wave to a stunned Brea and disappeared out the door.

* * *

 

“So let me get this straight… her pygmy puff- which hasn’t even been born yet but she gets from the two of us sometime in the future- died last night. And took you with her to bury it at this bloke Tom Riddle’s grave? Whom died in the forties? Did I get everything?” George asked as he watched Fred counting inventory.

“Sums it up nicely George, well done.” Fred replied, and scribbled down a number in the book he held in his hands.

George sighed and shook his head. “It wouldn’t have killed you to find a nice simple girl?”

Fred looked at George with feigned hurt, dropping the book and quill onto the counter. “Are you saying that I’m a simple fellow? Why I never!” Fred rolled his eyes when his brother folded his arms and lifted a brow. “Don’t get me wrong. Simple is nice. Simple is not worrying if she’s still here, or wondering if I’ll ever know everything about her.” He paused to run a hand through his hair. “I can’t explain it, the draw I have to her. It’s not that she’s beautiful or that she has unique abilities or a tragic story that she avoids telling with a broken smile.”

“So… you see someone that needs to be fixed? Just because our niece saw her in a vision and spouted about her being your one true love, doesn’t put you under some obligation to take on her problems-”

Fred shook his head, growing frustrated with his brother and himself. “I’m not an idiot or blind. I’m not doing this because I believe it’s some predestined fate- fuck- I don’t even know what I am doing. I just know that I like it when she laughs, or she pretends to not care but it shows through anyways.” He paused to draw in a deep breath and give his brother a steady look. “I want to know who, what, where… when. But I feel like I’m racing, that the time I have is running out.”

“Is that why she’s coming to meet the family tonight?”

“About that… do you think I should have told Mum first?”

George grinned. “Absolutely not. It’ll be funnier this way.”

Fred answered his grin with one of his own and returned to his task.

“So when are you moving in over there? Once Charlie finds his own place- it’s going to get awfully lonely over there.”

Fred considered George’s question with a shrug. “You think she’d notice if I moved in without telling her?” He shared a chuckle with George before shaking his head. “I think I have to move in bit by bit. But you’re right about being alone over there. She always had that pygmy puff and now…” An idea began to creep up on him and he turned excited eyes on his brother.

“Uh… I know what look. What’s it you got brewing in that noggin?”

Fred dropped his book and quill back on the counter and strode for the door. “No time!” He could faintly hear George call out to Verity that they were leaving. Within moments he was swinging the door open to Magical Menagerie, George on his heels. A nod to the bored looking clerk and he scanned the cluttered shop, excitement thrummed through him as his gaze caught his quarry.

Much later and despite the discouraging words of his twin, Fred smiled down at the fluffy little creature sleeping in a basket beneath the counter of the Wheezes.    

* * *

 

Back and forth before the fireplace, Brea paced. Her fingers were twisted in her hair and she frantically struggled to find a way out of her current situation.

“I cannot do this, I cannot do this.” She pulled a hand from her hair, dragged it down her face, and bit one of her knuckles lightly. “This is madness… I was a cute and adorable little girl back then.” She said in a muffled voice. “Now- now I’m…” She dropped her finger and looked down at her dirty and worn clothes, felt the tangles in her hair, and the mess throughout the house. “Now I’m a grown lady who forgot to clean laundry, brush my hair, and living in a pigsty…”

She suddenly laid on the bare floor in the center of the room and stared at the water stained ceiling.

“I’ll just tell him I’m ill. Rough first day at work and all that. Yes… that should be fine.” With this sound plan in mind, her heart began to calm.

A sudden knock sounded on the door, bringing Brea into an upright position with a renewed panic.

“C-come in!” she managed to get out. She swallowed thickly as she watched the door creak open and in walked Fred Weasley.

“We really ought to find you some furniture.” He said with a grin.

Confused, Brea tilted her head to the side before realizing why he made such a comment and she scrambled back to her feet.

“Sorry- um….” Brea pressed her lips together and ran a hand over her hair, pushing it out of her eyes. “I need to tell-“ She was cut off when Fred held up a finger.

“Hold that thought, I have a moment planned and if there’s anything that any bloke knows, it’s that many a moment planned have been unplanned by those words.”

Brea stayed silent and folded her hands on her stomach. She watched, a bit nervous, as Fred began to pat the pockets of his coat.

“Ah there she is.” He whispered.

Her apprehension turned into curiosity and then shock when Fred’s hand slipped from his pocket and the ball of black fuzz gave a tiny mew.

“I didn’t know how soon is too soon when a furry companion dies before inviting in a new one… so this was probably pretty impulsive. If you don’t want her then I’ll keep her but maybe- give her a chance?”

Brea was so transfixed that she hardly noticed Fred’s nervous rambling. Without realizing what she’d done, she’d scooped the kitten into her hands and buried her nose in the soft fur, the light purring rumbling in her palms.

“Oh she’s- wait-“ Brea paused to hold the kitten up. “ _He’s_ absolutely delightful.”

“So you like him? It’s not too soon?” Fred asked, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Brea hugged the kitten to her chest and looked at Fred through her lashes.

“Nothing will ever replace Gred-“

She cut off when his eyes widened.

“Gred?”

Brea turned away and rubbed her cheek on the kitten’s fur.

“Er… yes I named my pygmy puff for you and George. Sometimes I interchanged the name with Forge now don’t get a big head!” She twisted back to look at him and rolled her eyes at his wide grin. “I was eleven and George was charming!”

“George?” Fred frowned, confusion lacing his voice.

Brea froze, and quickly let her face fall blank.

“Yes, technically, George is the one who gave me- or will give- the point is…”

“I wasn’t there? At the shop?”

“No, I never met you-“

“Yet you knew of our self-given nicknames?”

Brea felt panic weighing on her chest and struggled to find a way out of the current topic.

“I met most of your family and yes was told several Forge centric stories. It was grand. George felt I should have a companion as I’d never been away from my family before.” Brea went on the defensive as he opened his mouth, no doubt with more questions at the ready. Fred always had questions, she’d learned not long ago, and he was quite good at putting pieces together. “If you’re quite finished now, I’d like to thank you and I should name this little critter.”

She held up the little ball of fur and gazed into his golden eyes.

“How do you like the name Griffin?”

The golden eyes became hidden has he began to doze in her palms.

“Griffin?”

“Absolutely. I was in Gryffindor.”

“That’s weird. I would have taken you for a Slytherin.”

Brea gave him a pointed glare. “That had better not be an insult. I’ve known some amazing Slytherins.”

“Woah little lion, I would never-“ Brea continued her glare. “-Alright maybe a time or two- okay- maybe I said something nasty or pranked a few Slytherins. But you better believe that they gave it right back!”

Brea sighed. “That I can believe. House rivalry will never go away and has always been prominent no matter the era.”

“Makes Quidditch more interesting.”

“Speaking of interesting… Fred, where are we eating?” Brea said apprehensively.

“Oh! Just over at the Burrow. Now that Charlie is back, Mum is looking for any reason to feed everyone. Though Ron and Ginny are back at school, everyone else will be there and it’ll be great fun. You’ll meet the nieces and Angelina and my uncles and well too many to name but it’s a real riot watching Mum run around fussing.”

Brea tried to smile, and felt a sinking feeling. She couldn’t say no, couldn’t even find the words to voice just how uncomfortable she felt. His eyes were shining with excitement, the love for his family in his voice.

He seemed to genuinely want her to meet them, and there was not a chance in Hades that she was going to disappoint him. This was the reason he was here. To be with his family… to be happy with his perfectly shinning blue eyes and wild imagination. If dragging her raggedy self to meet the people he loved most would keep that light shining in his eyes then she would paste a smile on and try her best to be the charming girl she once was.

“It all sounds lovely Fred. Do you mind giving me a moment to clean up? I’m afraid that I haven’t had the time to clean any of my clothing.”

Fred stepped back and ran his gaze over her. “What’s wrong with what you’re wearing?”

“You must be joking… you’re not. I look atrocious! This is what I wore to scrub the floors at Gringott’s! Not to mention the lovely holes and stains already-“

“Well are you a witch or not? Just use a spot of magic.”

Brea looked at her pile of laundry still waiting in the middle of the floor.

“Using magic for everyday tasks leaves too much empty time. Idle hands can create awful things out of boredom.” She said with a frown. “But in this case… I wouldn’t wish to keep your family waiting.”

Fred rolled his eyes.

“I promise you, Mum and Dad are great admirers of the muggle way of doing things but even they know the benefit of magic in some everyday tasks. Now… chop chop.”

Brea quickly put Griffin in Fred’s hands and began to dig through her laundry.

“Fine. Just this once but afterward, no matter how late, we’re going to find supplies for Griffin, and you’re paying.”

“What? Why me?”

Brea snatched a flower print skirt and long sleeved blouse. After a quick glance to be sure that they weren’t soiled beyond the help of magic, she strode for the staircase.

“Because you brought Griffin when I have no supplies for him and I won’t be paid until the end of next week.”

“Make Charlie do it! Pretty sure he’s not doing enough for his room and board anyways.”

“Fred!” Brea spun around on the top stair to find him grinning up at her. Instead of carrying on with his mischief she narrowed her eyes and left without another word, the sound of her boots stomping to her room echoed through the house.

When she game back down a few minutes later she had her face scrubbed, her hair tamed into a braid, and cloak folded over her arm. She found Fred seated on the floor against the far wall, Griffin curled on his shoulder. He looked up from a little notebook he held in his hand, when the sound of her boots reached his ears.

“See now, you look human enough to pass.” He said with a wink.

“I took pointers from your own tolerable appearance.” Brea said with a smile before nodding toward his notebook. “What do you have there? Poetry?” She scooped Griffin into her hands after she slipped her cloak on and put him in one of her deep pockets, just as she’d always done with Forge.

“Oh this? Nah just jotting down product ideas. Learned early on that writing them down as they came to me was better than attempting to remember later on.” He stood and slipped the notebook into a pocket before jutting a thumb over his shoulder toward the door. “Charlie mentioned that you’re not connected to the floo network yet but we can hop over to mine…”

Brea twisted her hands together.

“Actually, if we could apparate there? I’m not accustomed to travel via floo and I’d hate for my first grand meeting to involve me stumbling about ungracefully.”

Fred only shrugged and held out a hand. Brea took another quick moment to gather her courage, to stamp down the twisting in her stomach, and tell herself one last time that this would make Fred happy. Which is what she’d resolved to do. Before she could begin to let her doubts change her mind she slipped her hand into his and felt the feeling of apparition wash over her.

The only time Brea had ever visited the Burrow, she’d been but a newborn and thus did not remember it. She remembered Harry’s stories of how at home he’d felt there, and how just one look at the place and you knew that it was full of love, laughter, and memories. She had to agree.

After they arrived in a field some distance from a delightfully haphazard house, Brea took it in, her hand tightening around Fred’s as he followed her gaze.

“It’s not much, but it’s home.”

A sudden bout of manly laughter echoed from the golden lit windows.

“It’s everything I’d imagined.” She whispered.

“Come one. That sounded like one of my uncles.” Fred said as he began to pull her along.

“Uncles?”

“Fabian and Gideon. My Mum’s older twin brothers- runs in the family.”

Brea stopped abruptly and stared at the house with wide eyes.

“Something wrong?”

How could she tell him that in her timeline, his uncles were long gone? Heroes… but gone all the same. Once again, she couldn’t form the words so she said the next thing that came to mind.

“It sounds as if there will be so many people… are you certain that I won’t be more of a burden?”

Fred’s light chuckle warmed her.

“Nah. Mum is one of those the more the merrier types.”

“How… how are you going to introduce me? I don’t think it’s wise to burst in there and telling them- well- about me.”

“You mean the truth?” He asked bluntly.

“Fred-“ She cut herself off. She’d nearly told him that he didn’t even know the truth. “I’m not waltzing in there and telling them that I’m a time travelling relative of Lucius Malfoy who hasn’t even been born yet.”

“I get that. But… what about us?”

Brea’s breath caught and she watched him with a wide eyed gaze.

“I know what I want to tell my family. In my mind I know what we are but-“

“We haven’t exactly discussed that and I don’t think now is the time. I-I can’t rush- I mean-“ Brea cut off as she felt panic rising in her chest. “I thought-“

“No worries little lion. For now you can just be Charlie’s landlady. Mum will want to meet you just for that. And soon we will make time to discuss what this is and where it’s going.”

Brea gave a small smile as he gestured between the both of them, her panic beginning to ebb.

“Soon.”

“Fred! Get your arse in here already! Charlie’s claiming he’s better at Quidditch than the rest of us!”

Brea looked from Fred to find George leaning out of the front door, watching them expectantly. Another bout of laughter came from within followed by the sound of a feminine voice shouting threats. She pulled her hand from Fred’s and squared her shoulders. She’d faced some terrifying situations in her life but somehow she’d never felt this nervous before.

Fred entered before her, shouting greetings to various family members and swinging two little girls into his arms. There were giggles and ruffled hair rubs and reprimands on being the last to arrive. Brea watched from the safety of the door way as the familiar sight of Molly Weasley leaned up for Fred to peck her on the cheek. She only jumped slightly as she felt an arm drop across her shoulders.

“Everyone, this is Brea Fox, Charlie’s landlady.” George called out above the noise. She sent him a grateful smile, relieved that he somehow instinctively knew what to say. “That there is Bill, Fleur, Uncle Gideon, Mum, Dad, Angelina, Percy, Audrey, Uncle Fabian, Little Molly and Little Victoire. Did I miss anyone? Ron and Ginny are back at Hogwarts and you know Fred and Charlie. Everyone say hello to Brea!”

Brea took in the faces that were unfamiliar to her, nodding to each one, falling in love as she was welcomed without question. Just as they had done when she had been eleven. Though Molly and Arthur had yet to age so far and of the bunch she’d only met George, Charlie and Ginny, having grown up with Ron as her honorary uncle, they were all still so painfully familiar.

After greetings were given and she was stuffed into the already crowded couch between Angelina and Percy; Fleur, Molly, and one of her brother’s bustled off in what Brea assumed was the kitchen. She took the moment to study the crowded living room. Everywhere she looked there was something that was so utterly what she expected to be found in the Weasley household. Pictures of every member, clocks, and knick knacks. Baskets of knitting and bowls of buttons. Books, magazines, and potted plants covered every table or shelf.

She watched as Arthur turned on the radio and pulled his blond haired granddaughter into a little shuffling dance while who she guessed was Gideon did the same with the younger Molly. She smiled at the little girl as she kept sending her wide eyed glances.

“Tell us Ms. Fox, how does one become the owner of the old Gaunt house?” Percy asked, drawing her attention.

“Oh… I won it. In a card game. Oh and please call me Brea.”

That drew her more than one curious glance.

“No way! What game?” Came from Angelina.

“…Poker.”

“A muggle game! How fascinating.” Arthur piped in.

“Dad where are the cards?” Charlie called as he began to dig through various drawers and catch all baskets.

“Well I’m not sure. Ask your mum.”

“Mum! Where are the playing cards?” Brea tried not to jump as Fred’s voice filled the room.

“Lower your voice George! Check under the clock.” Came Molly’s reply.

“Honestly Mum, I’m Fred!” George called back while Fred yelled out that he’d found them. Before Brea knew what happened she found herself seated at a table in the kitchen full of Weasleys, Prewitts, and their spouses. The two little girls were held on Charlie and Bill’s laps while Brea attempted to teach everyone how to play poker.

Thankfully Charlie had some experience from his own days abroad and did his fair share of explanations on the rules and tactics.

“I have three eights. Is that good?” Arthur asked as he twisted his handful of cards in different angles.

“Where did you learn how to play poker? Are you muggle born?” Fleur asked while setting a bowl of chips before the two children.

Brea was charmed by her accent and gave her a small smile.

“I’ve traveled most of my life and made a very dear friend in America who taught me on our travels.”

“You don’t say! Fabian and Gideon have been to America for their work.” Arthur said.

Brea gave them a nod and a smile and continued to muck her way through attempting to teach so many how to play the new game.

“Did someone hear that?” Charlie asked.

Everyone paused in their chatter until the sound of a little mew came from the pocket of Brea’s pocket.”

“Sounds like kitty!” Victoire called out.

Brea quickly reached inside and pulled Griffin out to the room full of curious eyes.

“I hope it was alright Mr and Mrs. Weasley… Griffin is so little, I was afraid to leave him long. I’m afraid that Fred gave him to me quite spontaneously so I don’t have everything that he needs yet. If bringing him into your home was over the line then I quite understand.” Brea rushed to say, heat coloring her cheeks.

“Nonsense, the little creature may stay.” Molly said as she checked the temperature on the peas. “You mentioned Fred gave you the kitten?”

Everyone as a unit lifted eyes first from Molly, then to Fred, and then to herself and in that moment Brea wanted nothing more than to rip open a hole in time and go as far back as she could get. Not just thirty seconds before she blurted out something so intimate, not thirty years to before the Burrow was even built, but back to the beginning of time.

“Uh y-yes. Just, well…”

“I want to hold him!” the younger Molly called out, her hands reaching for Griffin.

“Oh! Of course… that is if it’s alright with your parents…” Brea looked between Percy and Audrey who both nodded their consent before she passed Griffin to the little girl.

“Charlie why didn’t you take Ms Foxes cloak when she arrived? I apologize dear for the rudeness, I promise I taught them manners.” Molly said, her gaze on Brea.

“Brea, please. Oh there’s no need to apologize. Charlie is quite the gentleman at home. Even offered to help with the laundry.” Brea attempted to smooth over the conversation as she stood and handed her cloak to Charlie who merely rolled his eyes.

“Anymore living creatures in any of your pockets?” He asked. When Brea shook her head he tossed it over the nearest empty chair before settling back in his seat.

“If I could ask, why would a witch as young as yourself, and unmarried it seems, let a room out to a stranger?” Molly asked with a touch of curiosity in her voice.

“Mum, seriously?” Fred put in.

“Don’t seriously me, it’s an honest question. I have the well-being of one of my sons in mind.”

“You’re suggesting something about Brea’s character is what you’re doing!”

Brea closed her eyes tightly and struggled to find a way to fix the rift she was causing but only one thing came to mind.

“Don’t raise your voice to me like that young man.”

“So long as you go about with nonsense questions-“

 “Fred, please… she’s your mum and she’s quite right. I would have questions, and I don’t wish to lie.” Brea took a deep breath and looked at Charlie. “It’s probably best if you and I discussed the future of our arrangement further. On the morrow though if you please.” She stood and accepted Griffin back into her possession.

“Brea what are you-“

“I’m returning to that house. I have a headache and wish to rest.” Brea interrupted Fred, shutting her emotions off as the pain and embarrassment was becoming too much. “Everyone, it was a pleasure to meet you and thank you for welcoming me.” She looked at Molly and mustered up a smile. “I apologize for not staying for the meal that you’ve worked on and for intruding on your hospitality.”

There were multiple protests from around the table but Brea paid them no heed as she strode for the door, snatching up her cloak as she went.

“Brea! Wait!” Fred called, but Brea ignored him, stepping into the cool spring night. She’d taken several steps before Fred caught her arm and pulled her to a stop. “Don’t leave. Please.” He said in a hoarse voice. “Mum is just protective.”

Brea tilted her head back and gazed at the stars.

“I know Fred. She’s amazing and everything she should be and the problem isn’t with her.” She drew a deep breath before dropping her eyes to Fred, the glow of the lights from the house left half his face shrouded in shadows. “I’m not meant for this kind of life Fred. I don’t sit down play cards for fun or talk about why I do the things I do.” Brea shook her head sadly, her heart already breaking before her next words even left her lips. “I’ve learned why I’m here and once I do it… I won’t be here anymore. I don’t wish to hurt you so that discussion we talked about having…”

“Don’t say it.”

Brea pulled her arm from his grasp and stepped away from the boy with the perfectly blue eyes. Eyes that she’d hope to only cause to light up happily but now were glazed in confusion and pain.

“We won’t be having that discussion after all.”

And with a snap, she apparated back to the ramshackle house that she’d hoped to call home.

* * *

 

After a sleepless night of pacing in her bedroom and forming a new plan, Brea left the house in the early morning, Griffin purring in her pocket. She couldn’t help the long glance she gave the Wizarding Wheezes as she passed along the dark and quiet street. She felt guilt at knowing she’d caused pain to someone so undeserving, sadness that she wasn’t normal and couldn’t even attempt to have the illusion of a normal life.

“I never should have even entertained the idea…” She whispered and pulled her gaze away. She pulled her hood over her face and slipped into the Leaky Cauldron. A quick glance told her that only old Tom was manning the pub counter, with a couple of early risers drinking coffee and reading the Daily Prophet.

“Excuse me, can you tell me how to reach the Ministry?” Brea asked Tom quietly.

“A knut for some floo powder and you can use the floo.” Tom said as he cleaned a spot on the counter.

Brea frowned in frustration. She didn’t have a knut to her name.

“Is there any other way?”

“Out among the muggles-“

“I can show her Tom.” A voice spoke from behind her.

Brea looked over her shoulder and felt her world freeze. Peeking over the top of his newspaper were the familiar golden eyes of Remus.

“I- I can’t impose on you like that sir.” Brea whispered, unable to draw her gaze away.

“Nonsense! I was just on my way there myself. However I’m not partial to using the floo as I always tend to land face down.” Remus stood and gave Tom his half empty cup.

Unable to find a valid reason to say no, Brea found herself nodding in agreement. She promised that she would find a way to disappear from him once she’d reached the Ministry.

Remus slipped on his robe and held the door open for her, waiting as she left the quiet pub before following her out. She pulled her cloak around her, hoping to become invisible as she waited for him to lead the way.

“I’m Remus.” He said, holding a hand out to her as they walked in the early morning light.

“Er Fox… Brea Fox.” She whispered and gave his hand a quick shake before letting it go. She slipped it into her pocket to reassure herself that Griffin was still there.

“You have business at the Ministry?” Remus asked in a friendly tone.

“I- connecting my house to the floo network.” She said quietly.

“Ah so you must be new around here.”

“I suppose you could say that.” She silently pleaded for the small talk to cease. The more they talked the more memorable she became.

“It just so happens that I work there and would like nothing more than to show you about.” He led her to a phone booth and stepped inside. “I know that its tight quarters but it won’t be but a moment until we’ve arrived.”

  Brea twisted her hands in her cloak and followed along.

“Thank you. And truly, once I’ve arrived I won’t keep you from your duties.”

“Not at all. I’m a bit of an early riser.”

Brea smiled at him softly. The words _I remember_ were at the tip of her tongue but she bit them back and studied her once great friend. He was older obviously, but his light brown hair still flopped into his golden eyes and he had gained a number of scars. It pained her that this- his lycanthropy had been something that she couldn’t help him with.

“What do you do at the Ministry?”

“I work closely with the Minister of Magic.”

Brea’s heart jumped with excitement at the prestigious turn his life had taken.

“Remus, that’s wonderful! Do you aspire to be the Minister one day?” She said with more familiarity than she’d meant.

“Oh not at all. I leave that ambition to one of my oldest friends however. You’ll see me about campaigning for him soon though.”

A twinge of curiosity echoed through her as to who but the elevator settled and the door opened, allowing her to step out into a long corridor.

“We’ll have to walk this way and then take another elevator to the transportation office.”

Brea nodded and walked once again beside him.

“Will it take long? I have a new job and wouldn’t wish to be late.”

Remus flashed her a quick smile.

“You’ll be first and hopefully, if I have any authority around here at all, with me there they will speed up the process. What is it you do?”

“I- I work at Gringotts. I clean it up, make it sparkle. Nothing as glamorous as rubbing elbows with the Minister.”

 Remus chuckled and gestured at an elevator in the distance.

“I fetch mail, organize meetings, come to work earlier than I need to and leave later than is required. Luck however is in your favor as we have a direct floo connection to Gringotts. If you don’t mind taking it that is, you could be there in a snap.”

Brea picked up a touch of bitterness in his voice and the change of subject. She tossed her thoughts around as they stepped into the elevator.

“What did you envision yourself doing, if not the assistant to the Minister?”

“Creature rights.”

“Why did you not pursue your ambition?” Brea asked quietly, watching the once smiling Remus Lupin stare at her with a grim line between his eyes.

“Work is difficult to come by when you’re… different. I saw an opening, a way into the Ministry after dozens of failed attempts. Once I secured my place here, I’d planned to work my way to Law. But again, dozens of failed attempts so I just settled. Put my mind toward being the best assistant…” Remus snorted and shook his head. “Forgive me, that was more than I’d intended to say.”

Brea smiled in response.

“I don’t mind, it’s quite lovely listening when someone interesting is discussing something important to them. Besides, I’m certain your family is proud of you.”

“I imagine my parents would have been… there I go again.” Remus rubbed the back of his neck. “The appropriate answer to that question when you’ve known each other less than an hour is “Yes, they are.” And instead I go about dumping all my emotional drama on a stranger.” He looked at her with wide eyes. “You’re just really easy to talk to. Like an old friend.”

Brea hardly heard a word he said as her gaze slipped from his gaze and down to his left hand.

“You… you aren’t…” Brea took a shuddering breath and let it out slowly.

“Ah here we are! This first door and we’ll see if Shannon is in the office already. I imagine she is by the looks of it.”

Feeling numb, Brea followed him into the transportation office. A cheerful witch with smooth brown hair and thin wire glasses greeted them but Brea had nothing to give her in return. She missed the curious glances Remus and Shannon were giving her and anything they said was drowned out by the roaring in her ears.

“Brea? Ms Fox?”

A hand on her shoulder, shaking her gently, snapped Brea out of her daze.

“We need your address.” Shannon said.

Brea rubbed her hand across her eyes, feeling sick.

“Right of course. I don’t know it. The Gaunt house across from the joke shop…”

“Right… if you’ll just sign here…”

Brea somehow managed to pick up the quill and scribble her name before dropping it and turning away.

“Hey… are you alright? You seem… distressed.” Remus said as he caught up to her.

“I-I’m fine, I just have s-so much to do.”

“Right! This way to Gringotts.”

Brea nodded and followed behind him slowly. The amount of people bustling about began to increase and more than one bumped into her as she remained distracted by her whirling thoughts. When Remus led her to what looked like a row of fireplaces she made a snap decision.

“Nice to meet you Remus.” She whispered as she stepped inside the depression in the wall.

“You as well Brea.”

_“I’m sorry… sorrier than you’ll ever know.”_ She thought to herself, staring at him with glassy eyes. “Gaunt House.” She called out instead of Gringotts and in a flash she stumbled into the familiar house.

The pain that shot through her didn’t register as she fell to her knees.

“What have I done…” She moaned in agony. The Remus from her original time had died. A hero, fighting to bring an end to Tom- no Voldemort’s tyranny. He’d died but he’d had a wife. Tonks.

Brea began to shake uncontrollably. She didn’t remember doing it but her wand was in her hand and she began to struggle with breathing.

One of her best friends, someone she’d laughed with, studied with and watched grow, was supposed to grow up, marry Tonks, and have a little boy named Teddy.

Tears burned down her cheeks and a cry ripped from her chest.

They would have gone to school together if she’d stayed in her original line. Someone she would have been friends with.

Teddy wasn’t there. Her own father wasn’t there. And it was her fault.

Anger and self-loathing began to rush through her and Brea unleashed a wave of magical energy, slashing her wand through the air she tossed what little furniture she had across the room. The sound of splintering wood and glass didn’t register over the howl in her ears.

How many more were there? How many lives had she ruined? How many lives will never get to be, because of her?

Brea twisted her hands in her hair, the pain in her chest doubled her over and she screamed.

Every window throughout the house began to explode, showering her in glass.

Her scream died down into a wretched cry and she rocked on her knees.

A sudden blanket of warmth folded over her and the sound of a soothing voice whispered in her ears.

“Now, now my dear, shhh. You need to breath.”

The scent of ginger cookies and wool surrounded her. Comfort. Someone was trying to comfort her.

Brea managed to open her eyes and found Mrs. Weasley knelt beside her.

Another anguished cry tore from Brea as she doubled over again. She didn’t deserve this kindness.

“I-I’m a monster. All I wa-wanted was to m-mak-make it better. All I’ve wanted since I was elv-elven. He deserved a life!”

“Charlie, I need you to pick her up and take her home.”

“Mum- what’s happened?”

“Charlie do as you’re told. This girl needs our help.”

Brea continued to sob, paying little heed to Molly as she pulled Brea against her.

“Come now, I’m taking you to the Burrow. Will get you a calming draught and tuck you in.” Molly said in a soothing voice.

The girl didn’t seem to hear her and she moved away as Charlie bent down to scoop her up into his arms. She met her son’s worried gaze and gave him a solid nod to go ahead and leave. She glanced down at the basket of leftovers she’d brought with the intention of apologizing. She’d never meant to embarrass the woman in her sons’ lives and had hoped to start over.

Instead she’d arrived to find something was terribly wrong.

Shaking her head she followed after Charlie and the girl. After pulling several potions form the potion cabinet, Molly rushed upstairs and found him settling the whimpering Brea on Ginny’s bed.

“Here you go, this will help.”

When Brea made no move to drink the potion, Molly tipped it into her mouth. The potion did its purpose and calmed the girl into sleep. A mew came from her cloak and the kitten, Griffin was his name, ambled from her pocket and curled up on the young witch’s hair.

With a sigh of relief, Molly sat on the edge of the bed and watched her closely.

“Mum… what happened?” Charlie asked quietly.

Molly shook her head and wiped a tear from Brea’s cheek.

“I don’t know. I came to apologize. Glass flew through the air as I arrived and I rushed inside. Found her in hysterics and tried to calm her down… What could have caused this Charlie? Did I cause this?”

Charlie set a hand on his mother’s shoulder and squeezed.

“I doubt it. I could hear her pacing in her room all night. She was gone when I got up this morning… whatever caused this, it wasn’t you.”

“Then what… it doesn’t matter. I want you to round up your brothers and get to work fixing her house.”

“I’ll send a notice to Gringott’s where she works that she’s indisposed.”

“Does she have any family that we should notify?”

Charlie shook his head sadly.

“None that I know of. Except perhaps Lucius Malfoy.”

“We should inform him of what’s happened… I’ll take care of that.”

“I expect Fred will be over before I can finish explaining what I know.”

“He cares for her then?”

Charlie huffed a quiet laugh.

“Given the chance the two of them could become something…”

Charlie left Molly watching over Brea, who despite the sleep aid, whimpered in her sleep.

Another tear slipped from her closed eyes.

 

 

 

 

 

                 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	62. Last Word

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I wanted to give a shout out to FireGodsKittenLove. I had promised to have this up on Sat but of course the day I had all the time in the world to write, I lost my thumb disk. No Fred in this one but it leads to an important interaction in the next chapter. Sorry for the shortness. Enjoy!

Last Word

 

Warmth.

Softness.

Humming.

Brea sighed and rubbed her cheek against the soft pillow, slipping the warm blanket from her shoulder. The soft hum ceased as she stuck her hand out to pull the blanket back up to her nose.

“Keep singing Martha… Please?” Brea whispered, sighing again when the humming resumed. She felt herself drifting off… that is until something scratched her on the back of the head. She winced and swung a hand toward the offending object. She wondered if one of the barn cats had snuck inside.

“Oh you terrible beast, leave the girl alone. Shoo now.”

Brea frowned, trying to place the voice of the woman.

“There, he’s gone off to find a mouse.”

Brea cracked open her eyes bleary and found Molly Weasley seated in a chair beside her.

“How are you feeling dear?” Molly asked.

Brea closed her eyes as memories swam through her, bringing a headache with them. A workaholic Remus Lupin sipping reading a newspaper in the Leaky Cauldron before most had even stirred from their beds. A picture of him standing next to a smiling woman as she held a tiny bundle. He looked serious and terrified before a rustle in the bundle pulled his gaze from the camera and his expression calmed.

She felt her eyes begin to burn and she covered them with her palms, pressing as hard as she could manage, struggling for any thread of control.

“Now, I’m not an expert, but I believe if one needs to cry then they should… If it’s a shoulder you’re needing…”

Brea felt the mattress dip slightly.

“I wanted to apologize for my behavior last night. I’m ashamed to admit that I can be a mite jealous when it comes to my family’s attention. I could see the way you’d already won everyone over in such a short amount of time and I felt for lack of a better word… panic. I saw their adoration of you and you’re lack of emotion towards them and my panic turned into indignant anger. And in true Gryffindor fashion I lashed out irrationally. I never stopped to see the panic in your eyes or the stiff way in which you held yourself. It wasn’t until I was tucked into my bed that I began to see…”

Brea didn’t know what to say so she said nothing.

“I’ll leave you to your rest. And when you’re ready there will be a piping hot meal ready for you.”

With these words of undeserved kindness, the last string of her control snapped. Brea sat up in a rush and threw her arms around Molly, pressing herself into the older witches shoulder. Great sobs shook her frame as she cried.

She allowed herself, for the first time in her life, to be comforted as she grieved. She grieved for her Forge, for her life with Martha when everything in her little world was perfect. For the friendships she’d made and were so incredibly precious to her before she’d lost them all. But mostly the lives she destroyed in her quest to put her families’ lives back together.

Oh how miserably she’d failed.

She fisted her hands in the back of Molly’s dress.

How selfish and important she’d thought herself.

Humming resumed, and Brea found herself quieting. Calming from breath stealing cries to slow shuddering intakes.

A hand smoothed her hair down her back, until Brea felt stable enough to pull back, running her sleeve over her burning eyes. She paused only a moment before accepting the kerchief from Molly and cleaning up her face.

When she found her voice she finally looked at Molly.

“Please don’t f-feel as if this was because of- of you. Y-you’re wonderful and everything you sh-should be.” She gave Molly a trembling smile, hoping to put her at ease. “I’m a right m-mess but I want you to know th-that I going to leave Charlie in charge of the house. I’ll go.”

“Oh you mustn’t do that! For one Charlie would never go for that and also I never should have made you feel unwelcome like that. I trust my son to make his own decisions and I’m confident that you can make your own as well.”

Brea saw a useless battle ahead so she held her peace and simply nodded. The movement reminded her that her head was pounding and she was exhausted.

With a sigh she laid back down, welcoming the soft cradle of the pillow.

Molly pulled the blanket up around her shoulders and gave her a motherly smile.

“Now, I may not know you well yet, but I want you to know that you are welcome here. Always. And if you need to talk… well I’m here for more than just filling hungry bellies and mending socks.”

Brea contemplated her offer. She could never tell her the whole truth but maybe a bit of guidance… She took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“If something terrible had happened… something that had effected countless lives in horrible ways… would you try to fix it?”

Molly lifted surprised brows as she considered Brea’s question.

“Fixing terrible things is an incredible burden… but yes. I would try to help others.”

“What if you learned that you only made things worse… for some? What if you weren’t able to help everyone?”

“Then I would consider where I went wrong and go from there.” Molly paused, her gaze perceptive. “I would also need to consider that not everyone can be saved.”

Brea couldn’t accept that but she nodded in understanding.

“Do you think I could have that meal now?”

Molly at once hopped up.

“Absolutely. You’re skin and bones and I’m going to be having words with Charlie, Fred, and George. I want them making sure you eat three big meals with dessert every night and if they don’t then I’ll see to it myself.”

Brea smiled fondly as she watched Molly bustle from the room, talking about plumping her up as she went. She didn’t think telling the matriarch that the last time she’d had three square meals a day had been when she’d lived at Hogwarts in the forty’s was a wise idea.

Before she knew it she was reclined against a pile of pillows with a food laden tray levitating over her lap. As she ate, Molly let her be, leaving her to contemplate her next move.

Brea nibbled on a slice of cucumber.

She couldn’t accept this. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be and the more and more she thought about it, she couldn’t accept Molly’s words.

Grief turned to anger.

She needed information and there was only one person alive that she knew would have it.

Anticipation began to hum through her, pushing her to down her meal quickly and raise form the bed. As though summoned by the knowledge that she was leaving, Griffin bounded toward her from beneath the bed and climbed her leg. She winced as the sharp little claws grazed her through her long black skirt, prompting her to pull the kitten off and hold up him to meet her gaze.

“Now I have enough raggedy clothes without you helping.” Griffin answered her with a mew. “You settle here while I gather my belongings.” Brea settled Griffin on her shoulder before slipping on her boots and cloak. Waving her wand, the tray followed behind her as she crept from what she’d guessed was Ginny’s bedroom.

The light from the window told her that evening was approaching and with it Weasleys would no doubt begin to come and go. Brea peaked around corners until she found Molly in the kitchen washing potatoes.

“Molly.” She said quietly, trying not to startle her.

“Oh! You shouldn’t be out of bed yet.” Molly hopped up and waved the floating tray into the sink.

“I’m not used to so much relaxation.” Brea offered a kind smile. “I wanted to thank you for… for everything. The meal was delicious. But I know I have quite a bit to do and must be along.”

Molly looked as if she were ready to object but she simply nodded and pulled Brea into a quick hug.

“Certainly. And if it’s not too much, I’d like to invite you to dinner tomorrow… it won’t be most of the family like last time… just Arthur and I, Charlie and perhaps the twins. Fred at least if George is busy with Angelina.”

Even if Brea’s first instinct was to say no, she knew she couldn’t. Instead she nodded against Molly’s shoulder and stepped back. She was beginning to feel overwhelmed from the amount of contentment she felt just now.

“May I use you’re floo?”

“Of course dear. Just that way.”

Brea stepped in the fireplace with a handful of floo powder and looked at Molly.

“Thank you Mrs. Weasley.”

“Call me Molly dear.”

Brea smiled and nodded.

“Malfoy Manor!”

* * *

 

“Anything good in the paper today Lucy?”

“Call me that again Black and I’ll see to it that you’re fed to a starving dragon. And no.” Lucius muttered to Sirius.

“Must you antagonize him?” Regulus whispered from across the garden table. “Your move by the way.”

Sirius rolled his eyes and moved a random chess piece.

“That was a terrible move.” Regulus crossed his arms and glared at his older brother but Sirius wasn’t paying him any attention.

“I antagonize him because it’s funny to see his feather’s ruffled. Just look at him… if ever there was someone that needed to be ruffled, it’s that git.”

Regulus looked towards his cousin’s husband and had to resist snorting out a sip of tea. Lucius was sat in a garden chair, dressed in thick robes despite the spring warmth. An umbrella hovered above him as he turned pages of the prophet.

“Watch this.” Sirius whispered before casting a spell at the lounging wizard. Regulus nearly fell from his seat when rain began to fall from under the umbrella, showering a sputtering Lucius.

While Sirius broke into uncontrollable laughter, Narcissa looked over from where she was pruning a rose bush.

“Sirius, I’m going to tell your wife that you didn’t behave yourself.” Narcissa said as she watched her husband flail a hand at the umbrella, garbled threats could be heard above Sirius’ laughter.

Regulus could see a peculiar amount of red begin to take over Lucius face.

“Perhaps you better cancel the spell now brother. I fear he’s going to give some awful retaliation for this.” Regulus said.

Still laughing madly, Sirius did as suggested, leaving a very angry Lucius Malfoy soaked as he glared.

Regulus heard a light giggle and looked to find Narcissa focusing intently on her roses, Andromeda who was knelt at her side was nearly purple in the face from trying not to laugh.

“Oh come off with the glaring, you know you liked it. Here, how about this?” Sirius said cheerfully before drying Lucius with a spell.

Now Andromeda and Narcissa truly laughed as Lucius while dry, now had wild white hair going in every direction. Paired with his red face and tightened fists he looked comical enough to cause Regulus a quick chuckle.

“Your turn Sirius.” Regulus pressed, before pranking could get out of hand.

The laughter died down and Lucius stood to straighten his robes with angry motions before settling himself and going back to his reading. Regulus could be sure but he might have heard Lucius muttering about flea ridden mutts and where they should go.

Sirius moved another random piece, putting Regulus very near checkmate.

He truly didn’t mind the awful game his brother was playing. He was content to just be there in the sunshine filled garden. Narcissa called for their generation to gather for afternoons such as these as often as possible. Regulus suspected it was a habit formed from their days as children.

His and Sirius wives’ were always welcome of course only they were quite dedicated to their careers when the children were away at school.

“The ministry approved the plans for the wizarding fair. How muggle. Sounds like something you would enjoy Sirius.”

Sirius only laughed.

“Hopefully after the school term has ended. Sounds like something the children would enjoy.” Narcissa added.

Regulus was pulled from offhandedly listening by the sound of something shattering from within the manor. Most would have been alarmed but not a single occupant of the garden glanced up from their task.

“Cissa if that wretched elf has broken another vase I shall take his hands. That would be the third one this month.” Lucius growled from behind his newspaper.

“Really Lucius, he’s just young and still learning.” Narcissa said calmly.

“Malfoy!” A voice from the house called out. This did indeed draw everyone’s wide eyed gazes. “Lucius bloody Malfoy! I know you’re here and if you want to continue to exist-“

The very feminine voice hollering threats cut off and everyone turned bewildered gazes toward Lucius. He had his head tipped back against the chair, his eyes were closed and he dragged a hand down his face.

The double doors swung open as if a hard gust of wind had pushed against them.

A young lady he didn’t recognize marched from the house. She was all billowing white hair and dark cloak. Her clothing was worn… close to what muggles often imagined witches wore in their tales. Her eyes had a determined glow as they settled on her prey.

“Lucius. We need to- What have you done to yourself?”

Regulus heard Sirius snort as Lucius opened his eyes and gave the mystery witch a classic Malfoy glare.

“Who needs to brush up on their manners now?” Lucius bit out, his lip curling.

The witch waved a hand dismissively.

“I haven’t time for manners.”

“Then perhaps you have time to take in your surroundings.”

Regulus could tell that his words must have struck something with her as her already tense posture became ever more rigid and she slowly turned her head. Her eyes widened as she noticed rest of them.

She seemed genuinely startled when she saw Narcissa and Andromeda. Something scratched at the back of his mind as he watched her and the feeling intensified when her gaze settled on Sirius and then himself. First panic and then sadness flashed across her face before she seemed to control her emotions and turned back to Lucius.

“This can’t wait. I suggest you follow Lucius.” She said harshly and quickly turned back toward the house. When she neared where Narcissa and Andromeda watched with rapt interest she slowed. “Apologies, I only need to speak to him a moment. A business matter.”

Narcissa lifted a single brow.

“By all means…”

The four of them watched as the witch stomped into the house and an entirely ruffled Lucius followed. He shared a quick glance with Narcissa before disappearing inside. The silence through the garden seemed to roar before Andromeda finally spoke.

“We’re not going to just sit here are we?”

“Absolutely not.” Sirius said with a grin a pulled something from his pocket.

“Sweet Salazar, Sirius are those ears?” Narcissa asked.

“Yep. Picked them up at the Weasley joke shop. Come on, they can hear past a regular warding spell which I’m willing to bet the Black fortune, is all big Malfoy and mini Malfoy are going to care to put up.”

“And what, you just keep those on you… waiting for eavesdropping opportunities?” Regulus put in as everyone rushed towards the doorway.

“Absolutely. How else am I supposed to find out what you lot are getting me for my birthday.”

Regulus rolled his eyes. They each listened at doorways until they heard muffled voices. Hovering around the extendable ears they settled in to listen.

“-thought you were beyond such foolish actions. Did you not consider contacting me another way?”

“If you’d truly cared to asked how my little chat with my mother had gone, then you’d know that I have a very short time limit for anything anymore. So no, I didn’t not consider it. I have questions and they need to be answered.”

“Of all places, this was the last place you should have come Fox. Or have you forgotten the family I married into? Never thought the good terms we would be on and that perhaps they might come over?”

“No! I never considered and I am paying for my rashness believe me. I never would have- not if I thought there was a chance _he_ would be here. How did this turn into you being angry with me? You are the one who needs to answer for your actions.”

“ _I_ have done nothing. In fact I answered your demands.”

“You were meant to prepare me Lucius.”

“To which I did. Admirably so seeing as you were so successful.”

“Successful? Successful! I ruined lives! I was a young naïve girl off to save the world. I gave up everything and I did it happily but you failed to mention the consequences.”

Andromeda began to look concerned. “Perhaps we shouldn’t… this sounds very private.”

Regulus and the others paid her no mind as they listened with rabid fascination.

“There are always consequences. But you have my attention. What do you speak of?”

“My father for one… and Remus Lupin.”

Regulus noticed Sirius clench his hand at the mention of one of his closest friends.

“….You know then.”

The sound of something shattering filled the brief silence.

“You did know! You knew and you didn’t tell me.”

“Stop destroying my things like a common house elf you- oh don’t do that… stop you’re blubbering…”

“Why didn’t you tell me Lucius? I never would have-“

“Never would have gone through with it? More would have died.”

“I never would have returned…”

“I don’t know what you are expecting from me.”

“How many others?”

“Plenty. War drives many people together. The constant threat of death has a spectacular way of reminding romantics of what is important. Without that threat…”

After a break of silence the witch- Fox, continued in a weary voice.

“I entertained the idea you know… of finding my father.”

“Despite everything Fox… I am sorry.”

“Please… I don’t forgive you for this. How could I when I will never forgive you for what you made me do.”

“I have lived the alternative Fox. Do not forget that I have my own scars.”

“Yes, I can see they must be tearing you apart. Meanwhile I’ve just learned that I have little more than a year to track down someone trying to undo all of my work before I disappear!”

“Disappear?”

“My mother chose my father for a reason Lucius.”

“I see. Did they tell you our new enemy?”

“The Doves are always vague and speak in riddles. And they are my enemy. Not yours. I’m not here for your help. We may be blood but you were never my family-“

“This conversation has gone on long enough. I suggest you get to your reason for even existing and leave me be. I did my part.”

“Oh I plan to leave you alone Lucius. I’ll do what I always do-“

“Run away?”

“I’ll do what I have to do. Find Orion’s warriors and stop them. I’ll appease the Fates and give everyone their happily ever after while I fade away into nothing!”

“So melodramatic. Are you bitter?”

“Of course I am Lucius. I wanted that happily ever after. I _deserved_ it.”

“Careful Fox… You sound just like _him_.”

“That’s because he is a part of me. Which is something else you didn’t prepare me for. Just how intoxicating the darkness around him truly was…”

“…You loved him.”

“…Not romantically. His potential-“

“Do not talk of him. You saw his beginning, not the nightmare.”

“Fine, I accept that… I wanted to return from that darkness to find my friends and family waiting. Instead I’m left with you as the only one who remembers me. A wretched trade if you ask me.”

“You may leave the way you came.” The anger in Lucius voice was cold.

“I intend to. Before I do, I leave you with a warning. Just because my life is ending does not free you to go back on your word. You will leave your son out of your machinations. Saving you did not mean you could do as you pleased. It meant you were to step aside like a proper father and support your son in whatever he chose.”

“Do not push me further you foolish meddling girl. Be gone to your purpose. Now! I won’t say it again!”

“You no longer frighten me like when I was a child. But yes…”

“You are impossible. You don’t have to have the last word like some spoiled child.”

“No but I want to.”

“Leave.”

“I will.”

“Now.”

“Yep.”

The sound of Lucius growling in frustration was just on the other side of the door and in true comical fashion the four grown wizards and witches scrambled from the doorway. They rounded the nearest corner and pressed together in order to peek around.

“Where are the extendable ears?” Sirius whispered.

“I thought you had them.” Narcissa replied back.

Regulus shook his head that no, he didn’t processes the ears and Andromeda did the same.

A clearing of someone’s throat gained their attention.

There stood a stony faced witch, Sirius missing ears in her hand.

“Yours yes?” She said harshly before shoving them against his chest. The glare she turned on each of them made Regulus feel as if he had been spying on Professor McGonagall. “Enjoy your evening.” She muttered and strode for the fireplace. With a flash of green fire she was gone.

 

 

 


End file.
